


Red Light, Green Light

by someofthissomeofthat11011



Category: Love Victor (TV 2020)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someofthissomeofthat11011/pseuds/someofthissomeofthat11011
Summary: What if Benji had been invited to the Stoplight party. He shows up wearing red after work and everything goes a little differently for Victor.
Relationships: Benjamin "Benji" Campbell & Victor Salazar
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be 3 relatively long chapters. I have it all written, I just need to edit before posting the next two chapters.

**Chapter 1:** Red

There are so many people crammed into Mia’s house, more people than I think inhabited all of Graham. Okay, probably not, but this is kind of the equivalent if my whole sophomore class had shown up for a party. It’s a really good thing Mia lives in a mansion or this would feel claustrophobic.

There’s a flash of red interspersed in a sea of greens and yellows. I’m grateful when the opportunity presents itself for some fresh air with the rest of the basketball team. Don’t get me wrong: it’s kind of amazing to be surrounded by so much energy, but it’s also a little overwhelming.

Everything is different here. In Texas, we were creatures of conformity. I knew exactly how to act to avoid too much attention, but the rules have changed. Parties here mean a mansion packed with people, something as simple as riding a Ferris Wheel blows up on the school blog, vice principals have weird boundaries with students, showing that you might like someone makes you ‘thirsty’. It’s like a different world.

I’m extra on guard tonight because of that; because I haven’t figured out how to navigate this new normal here and I feel like I’m not really ready for people to see me until I figure out what that is. When Andrew offers to get a round of drinks for everyone, I decline. It’s not that I don’t drink. I’ve had drinks before at small get-togethers at my friends’ houses back in Texas, but I’d never been to anything of this magnitude. The biggest party I’d ever been to was after we won a big game last year and even that looks like a casual hangout comparatively.

Once everyone else has been drinking it’s easier to blend. I don’t know if it’s my secondhand drunk or if my natural instincts are kicking in, but it’s surprisingly easy to banter back and forth. 

“Who invited the loser?” one of the older players on the team asks while we’re sitting together, each of us doing our own things on our phones. I just finished reading a message from Simon and guilt is slowly crawling through my chest. Simon has this remarkable way of saying exactly what I don’t want to hear. I know he’s right though. I vaguely remember Andrew introducing him, but I can’t remember his name right now.

I follow his gaze to Felix and internally groan. All I can think about are Simon’s words:  _ Don’t be so desperate to fit in that you betray yourself or the people you care about, okay? _ Felix’s arms are stretched out as if he’s trying to maintain his balance as he walks along the cobblestone pathway outside. He trips over what appears to be thin air. I sigh as my conscience kicks in. I don’t know if this is typical for him; I didn’t get the idea that he goes to a ton of parties. “Mia and Lake did because he’s our friend. I should go check on him.”

I go over to Felix. He spots me before I get to him. His cheeks are definitely flushed but other than that, he looks fine. “Hey. I was wondering when you’d get back,” he says.

“Yeah. I was just with the guys on the team. Are you okay?”

Felix takes a seat on one of the benches in the backyard. “It turns out crippling social anxiety has an antidote.” He waves his cup at me. “I thought this was going to be my chance with Lake. I can’t believe she has a boyfriend. Bruno.” He scoffs. “Even his name sounds cool. How am I supposed to compete with that?” He takes a sip of his drink. I wonder if I should cut him off. I don’t know if that would be crossing some kind of line. I really don't know him or what he can handle. 

I have no idea what to say to that, so we sit in silence for several minutes. I watch the other party goers for something to do. Almost everyone is drinking and, if they’re not drinking, they’re still holding cups that make it look like they are. I see a lot of mingling. There are entire groups of people clothed in green huddled together and a few green-yellow duos are standing a discreet distance away from everyone else. There are two kids clad in yellow holding hands while they sit on a bench swing off in the distance, and I wonder if that’s the alcohol or if they potentially discovered requited crushes. I’m surprised when I see a guy in a bright red jacket making out with a girl in a muted green dress. I’m really hoping that he just didn’t know what a stoplight party was or got the meanings of his colors mixed up.

Felix sighs. “I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?” he asks.

“Uh, no. I’m good,” I assure him.

I’m not sure he hears me because he’s looking at something far away. “Oh look. It’s Benji. Huh. I did not think this was his scene.”

I don’t look where he’s pointing because the very last thing I want to do is remember the disaster that happened after school today. I glance at my watch. Brasstown didn’t close that long ago. He must have come here right after he got off of work.

I don’t realize Felix is waving at Benji until it’s too late. I’m still not looking up, so the first thing I see of Benji is his shoes. “Hey,” he says cheerfully. “Seems like a pretty good party.”

“Oh yeah,” Felix agrees. “You remember Victor, right?” Why does he have to draw attention to me?

“Of course,” Benji agrees. I finally look up at him. It’s my intention to smile and make this as least awkward as possible, but my ability to smile disappears when I see what he’s wearing. Red. I think he takes my lack of enthusiasm for embarrassment. He doesn’t bring up the disastrous interview which is the only silver lining I can see right now. He’s only with us a few minutes before another guy comes over. He’s dressed mostly in black, no stoplight colors to be seen, so I’m not prepared when he kisses Benji.

I don’t expect my influx of emotion. I think I’m… jealous? It’s so surprising, and I feel shame mix with my anger. I have no right to be jealous, and I have no reason. Under my jacket, I am wearing yellow for a different person at this party. I chose Mia. It’s great that Benji has a boyfriend; it removes this whole complication. It means I can let go of whatever it is that makes me so flustered around him.

I glance at Benji again. He’s smiling big at the new guy and the look on his face makes my heart ache. There’s no doubt in my mind; he’s in love with this kid. Something about that breaks me. It’s not even jealousy this time. Actually, it kind of is, but it’s a different kind of jealousy. With all the questioning I’ve been doing, love has always seemed so out of reach. To see someone that is living a life that I’ve fantasized about but have never believed would actually happen? It makes me feel detached. I don’t know if I actually want the future I’m witnessing before me, but I know I want the confidence I see in Benji. I want to be that sure of somebody one day. It feels so impossible.

“This is Derek,” Benji introduces.

“Hey. Good to see you,” Felix says as if he knows Derek. It occurs to me at that moment that Felix might. I don’t think I’ve seen him around school, but if he’s from this area, it’s more than possible that they know each other. Felix has had years to get to know people that I’m just starting to meet. “Victor and I were going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” Benji shakes his head as Felix stands up. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be a problem.”

Benji looks uncomfortable, so Derek is the one to answer. “We don’t drink.” His voice offers no room for disagreement.

Felix disappears leaving me with Benji and Derek. I have no idea what to say. I’m genuinely speechless right now.

Derek must be uncomfortable with the silence because he points out, “I don’t think I know your name.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m Victor.”

I hold my hand out, but he must not see it because he puts his arm around Benji’s shoulder instead. “Are you a freshman? I don’t remember seeing you around school last year.”

“Derek graduated last May,” Benji explains.

“That’s cool. Uh, congratulations. You wouldn’t have seen me around school. I’m new; I just moved here from Graham. Texas,” I explain.

“This must be a big change for you,” Derek says.

I glance at where his hand is entwined with Benji’s. “Yeah. A big change,” I agree.

I think Derek knows where I’m looking and misunderstands because he pulls Benji a little closer; it comes across as a little possessive. Or maybe I’m wrong and he just wanted to do it. I’m spared from having to find out when Felix returns. Despite the fact that I told him I didn’t want anything, he returns with a cup for me as well. I accept it and look at it nervously. “Cheers.” Felix holds up his cup.

I hesitate, but then I see Benji whisper something in Derek’s ear, and Derek kisses his forehead. I clink my cup with Felix and drink. I’m expecting it to be beer, so my sip is larger than it would have been if I’d known. It tastes so much worse than anything I’ve ever had. I never particularly cared for the taste of alcohol, but whatever this is makes the beer I had in Texas taste like ice cream. It makes my eyes water and my throat burn. I manage to avoid the urge to cough or spit it out, but it takes a lot of self-control.

At the same time, within minutes, the edge is gone. It makes me feel a little more confident and less self-conscious. I figure as long as this is my only drink, there’s no real harm.

We fumble through a bit of an awkward conversation with Benji and Derek until Benji mentions that he and Derek are in a band. After that, we kind of find a groove. It’s weird because we have to have talked for hours, but I feel like we don’t actually talk about anything. It’s kind of like talking about the weather but with music.

I’m not necessarily eager to leave, but I’m relieved when I can use my curfew as an excuse. I don’t know what it is that has me off my game, but something about seeing Benji and Derek together makes me feel like my brain is somewhere far away. I don’t think any amount of alcohol could make me feel more comfortable right now. “Look at the time. We really should be heading out.”

“Are you guys okay to get home?” Benji asks uncertainly.

I feel a little indignant at that. How drunk does he think we are? 

“Yeah. My mom’s asleep. She won’t notice,” Felix answers.

That’s the first time I factor my parents into the equation. I only had the one drink, and I don’t think I’m noticeably drunk, but I need to test the theory. “I need you to pretend to be my dad,” I say. I stand up and turn Benji’s shoulders so he’s facing me. It means Derek’s arm falls from his shoulder for the first time all night.

Benji stares at me. “I think that answers my question. How much did you have to drink tonight?” He asks.

I point to my cup. It’s not even fully empty - though, it’s definitely close. I consider taking the last two sips just to finish it, but I don’t think that would help my argument. “Just that,” I assure him. “I’m fine to go home.”

Benji looks skeptical. “What’s in the drink you got him?” He asks Felix.

Felix shrugs. “I dunno,” he says. “Sal was making them in the kitchen, and he gave me two.”

“You took drinks and didn’t ask what was in them?” Benji asks incredulously.

It seems to be dawning on Felix that he probably should have asked. “No. I didn’t think about it.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” I say calmly. “It was great meeting you, Derek.”

Benji sighs. “I want to walk you home, just to be safe.”

He looks at Derek, and I’m surprised when Derek almost looks angry. Benji and Derek walk a few feet away from us. I catch something that sounds like “high school bullshit” and something else that sounds like “immature assholes” from Derek and something that sounds like ‘but I am in high school’ from Benji, but I can’t be sure I heard correctly.

Only Benji comes back to us. “Derek’s gonna head home. I’ll walk you guys back?” He asks.

“We were going to take the bus,” I explain. I’m only half looking at Benji because Felix teeters on his feet, and I’m a little worried he’s going to fall or something. He rebalances himself.

“That’s fine. When’s the next bus?”

“10:45,” I answer. The stop is only a couple of minutes away from Mia’s house - it’s just outside her neighborhood. “You really don’t need to do this.”

“I want to,” he shrugs.

He follows us to the bus stop. The bus is late; go figure. I’m going to be home way past my curfew. While we wait, I decide to take a crack at a real conversation. “How long have you played guitar?” I ask.

“I don’t play guitar,” Felix giggles.

Benji and I look at him. I think he’s somehow drunker than when we left. “We should have grabbed a bottle of water for him. And for you,” Benji mutters.

“Probably,” I agree. I watch as Felix sits down in the grass and starts picking blades of grass. It takes me a moment to process that that’s what he’s doing because why? Why would he randomly start picking blades of grass. I have no clue.

“Alright,” Benji says slowly. He’s staring at Felix too. “To answer your question, when I was pretty young. I was really shy when I was little. So shy that I had trouble talking to people, and my guidance counselor suggested to my parents that I get involved in some kind of class outside of school. Guitar sounded the least terrible and being in a room with a bunch of seven-year-olds learning guitar is the least threatening environment in existence, so I found my voice. And eventually I found my sound.”

I look at him surprised. “I can’t picture you being shy. You’ve been so friendly to me.” 

“It was a long time ago,” he reminds me. “I don’t remember it to be honest. I only know about it because my parents talk about it.” He drops his voice to sound like his dad. “I remember when you wouldn’t talk and now our house is all noise, noise, noise.”

“That’s kind of shitty,” I say before I can think about it. I worry that I may have offended him, so I quickly tack on, “sorry, I just mean…”

“No, you’re right. It is kind of shitty,” he agrees. “It’s not so bad now that I’m gone so much between school, work, and band practice. It was really…” He trails off and shakes his head. “He’s gotten better with the comments.”

I consider pressing because there is clearly something else he’s not saying, but I don’t want to pry. We don’t really know each other well enough for me to push for more. “That’s good,” I say quietly.

He shrugs like he’s not sure it is. There’s so much to unpack with that single gesture, but I decide to redirect back to our previous conversation. “You said you don’t practice at home. Do you have a practice space?”

“We usually practice in our drummer’s garage,” he explains.

“How long have you been in a band?”

Benji chuckles. “I forgot that you wouldn’t know this stuff. Most people know everything about me here or at least, they think they know everything.”

“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.

“I mean that a lot of people don’t look past what they see or hear to find out who I really am.” He kind of gets this far off look on his face.

“Wait, so you’re more than a guitar-playing barista who goes to Stoplight parties for fun?” I joke.

Benji smiles at that. “So much more,” he agrees. “I actually don’t usually go to Stoplight parties.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Our drummer is interested in someone that was supposed to be at the party, so we agreed to come with her so she wouldn’t be here by herself. She found out they weren’t coming, so she decided she wasn’t coming, but by then we were already on our way.”

“You're a pretty good friend to come to a party you don’t want to be at,” I observe. “Guess I should add that to the list.”

He shrugs. “We’ve been together through so much. They were some of the first people I came out to and they were with me when I came out to the whole school. That’s why everyone knows I’m in a band.”

Part of me registers that we’re in dangerous territory, but I feel like I need to know. I don’t know if I’m trying to ask for me or if I’m just trying to get to know him. “How did people find out?” I ask curiously.

Benji doesn’t answer because in some twist of the universe, the bus comes at that moment and our conversation is over. He ends up sitting behind me and Felix, and I can’t think of a good reason to turn and talk to him, so I resign myself to a quiet trip on the bus. I feel immensely disappointed that I never got to find out how he came out or what that has to do with him being in a band.

We get Felix to our building and Benji stops when we’re at the bottom of the stone steps. “Are you sure you’re okay to go home?” he asks. His question surprises me because I don’t think I’m even a little drunk right now. “Your parents aren’t going to be mad that you were drinking?”

“Is it obvious?” I ask nervously. I thought I was doing okay, but maybe I’m wrong.

He shrugs. “It’s hard to answer that. It’s obvious to me because I know you were drinking,” he points out. “If you’re worried about it, my couch is always open.”

I feel butterflies deep down in my stomach. I know that I’m not that drunk; I know that I should be fine if I go in; I even know that my dad probably wouldn’t be upset if he knew I’d been drinking as long as I did it responsibly. But at this moment, I don’t care about any of that. All I can think about is Benji’s offer for me to crash at his house and how it means I get to talk to him more. And for some reason, that’s exactly what I want. “Are you sure?” I ask. “I don’t want to impose.”

“I’m positive,” he says with a small grin.

“Let me call my dad real quick,” I say.

I pull out my phone. It barely rings before my dad answers. “You’re late,” he says by way of greeting.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I answer. “We lost track of time. One of my friends from school lives nearby and he offered to let me crash on his couch.”

He sighs. “What time will you be home tomorrow?” 

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know in the morning,” I assure him.

“Okay. How’d it go with that girl?”

I fidget uncomfortably. “Uh, she wasn’t really around. I mostly hung out with some friends from school.”

“Oh.” I can hear the disappointment in his voice. “Well, there will be other parties. You’ll get your chance with her.”

He hangs up shortly after that. Benji looks at me curiously but doesn’t ask. Felix starts to climb the steps but falls and catches himself on the top step. “You good, man?” I ask.

“The goodiest,” Felix assures me. He doesn’t even seem to notice that he fell; he’s back on his feet and chuckles as he lets himself into our building.

“Do you live far from here?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Fifteen, twenty minutes probably. We could wait for the bus if you’d prefer, but it’s a nice night.”

“I’m fine with walking.”

We’re silent as we walk. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly.

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” My voice sounds uncomfortably squeaky.

“Are you sure? Because you don’t seem okay and…” he looks off into the distance and looks troubled.

“And?” I ask.

“It could just be Derek being Derek, but he felt like you maybe had a problem with us.” Benji’s not looking at me which makes me think that Derek’s not the only one that made an assumption. I just want to say that I knew it!

“No, not at all. I think it’s great that you found each other.” I can hear the lie in my voice, and I’m not sure where that’s coming from, so I hastily continue, “I was embarrassed. This afternoon was such a disaster, and I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

Benji looks relieved. “It wasn’t that bad. I’ve had worse interviews,” he assures me. “Mine was worse.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I argue.

“This way,” he says gently as I start to walk right past his street. “I live all the way at the end.” We’re passing houses that aren’t as big as Mia’s, but are still very large. Most houses have various children’s toys outside like basketball nets, tiny plastic tricycles, and hula hoops. It has a much more lived in look that reminds me of the neighborhoods back in Texas. “I was actually going to tell you tonight. The job is yours if you want it.”

“What? How?” How is it even possible that I was the best applicant? Maybe he just feels bad for me.

Benji chuckles. “Apparently, none of the rich-ass kids at Creekwood need jobs, so you’re my only applicant. You’ll mostly be working with me after school three days a week and on Saturdays. Only if you want to, of course.”

“That sounds perfect. Thanks.”

“Great. I can tell Sarah that I didn’t get to call you tonight so you don’t have to worry about tomorrow,” he suggests. “Your usual shift will start at 8.”

“I can do tomorrow.” The sooner I get started, the sooner I can earn enough money for basketball.

“Oh, cool. I’ll let Sarah know. She’ll be excited; we’ve had this opening for a while.”

“Why?” I ask curiously.

“No applicants.”

“Oh, right. You said that before. Have you worked there long?” 

“Just under six months.” There’s a weird look on his face, and I’m trying to understand it. “This is me.”

I follow Benji up a sloped driveway, and he plugs a code into the pinpad by the garage. We pass a refrigerator in the garage with a padlock on it. “Why is your fridge locked?” I ask.

“Oh, um. Long story. I’ll tell you later.” I really don’t think he will, but I’m not going to push it. I follow him through the kitchen to a door that leads to a set of stairs. He starts to descend them, and I stop following him halfway down the stairs when I see the basement. “This is your room?” It’s almost the size of my whole apartment.

“My parents moved me down here when I was a freshman so I would stop waking them up when I played,” he explains. “They used to throw all of their stuff down here, but I built that shelving over there and made the space mine.”

I look towards the back of his basement where sturdy wooden panels hold up at least fifty huge plastic storage bins. “This is awesome,” I tell him. There’s a faded blue couch towards the side; it has a big rip in the arm of it and it looks like it’s gotten a lot of use. “Is that where you play?”

“You're full of questions tonight, aren’t you?” He’s smiling, so I don’t think he’s upset about it. I hadn’t realized I’d asked him so many questions. I make a mental note to be more careful with that. “It depends on whether I’m standing or sitting. I usually stand. It helps me think.” I can kind of picture Benji pacing around this space as he plays music.

"Cool."

I stand awkwardly in the middle of his basement. I take off my jacket for something to do and make a mental note that I need to return it to Andrew on Monday. “You’re wearing yellow,” Benji says surprised. “Was that for your Ferris Wheel beau?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I admit.

“Why’d you cover it up?” He questions.

“I’m new to this whole thing,” I start slowly. “I didn’t really do the dating thing in Texas. Mia’s the first person I’ve been interested in, so when Andrew told me I was coming on too strong…” I shrug. “I just don’t want to mess things up with her.”

“If you ask me, you’re more likely to regret not telling her how you feel than you,” he says quietly. “And take it from someone who knows, you should never be ashamed to show someone that you like them.”

“Hmm.” I hate to admit it, but he has a point. I feel guilt gnaw at my stomach because I don’t know if I like Mia. I want to like her. Liking her would be convenient and easy, but I don’t know if I do; I don’t really know her yet.

Benji must get uncomfortable with the silence. "I can put on some music. What do you like? Or I can connect your phone to my speakers," he offers. I unlock my phone, open my music, and toss it to him. He looks at my playlist and snickers. "Baby Shark?"

"I play it for my little brother," I say defensively. He raises his eyebrows. "And I may also find its predictability soothing." It kind of sounds like a confession, and it makes him laugh again.

A look I can only describe as pure glee crosses his face. "Yes. This one." He presses the song and  _ Call Me Maybe _ blasts through his speakers. There's a comical moment where he processes how loud it is and dives for his speakers to lower the volume. As if nothing happened, he starts dancing. “So call me maybe,” he sings along.

I can’t help but smile. “Okay, you’re making fun of me right now, but  _ Call Me Maybe _ was my jam when I was a kid. I made a whole dance up for it and everything.”

Benji laughs. “Okay, let’s see it.”

“See what?”

“Your dance. Come on.” Hell to the no. There is absolutely no way I am showing him that dance.

“All I remember is it involved a lot of spinning and… rump shaking.” I laugh self-consciously. My mom used to laugh so hard she would cry when she watched me dance to it. 

“Oh, like, like this?” he asks. He starts swaying a little and I can’t. My laughter is spilling out of its own accord. 

“No, no,” I correct. “Like this.” I mimic a little of the dance from my childhood and after a moment, Benji joins me. 

Benji spins in a circle while he dances. I spin as well and I get caught up in the feeling. For a split second, before the world catches up with me, I feel invincible. Every second I dance, I feel my defenses dropping. I don’t feel pressure to figure out who I am and who I like. For a second, I get to be Victor. Incomplete, uncertain, imperfect Victor seems like enough right now.

Towards the end of the song, he offers me his hand, and I don’t have to think about it. It doesn’t feel weird or uncomfortable or like I want any more than this. I feel like I don’t have to be self-conscious about this moment. He spins me and neither of us can stop laughing. We do one of those spins where we hold hands and spin at the same time.

I haven’t had this much fun… ever. Maybe I am drunk because that’s the only rational explanation for how a moment like this can exist. It’s over three minutes of pure bliss.

We’re still laughing when the song ends, and we collapse on his couch. He’s looking through my phone. I kind of get the idea that he’s looking for something specific. He picks his next song and sings along, “tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen. Pour myself a cup of ambition.”

“Huh. Dolly Parton,” I say surprised.

“It’s the only Dolly song you have. Shameful,” he teases.

“I did not take you for a Dolly Parton stan.”

“My dad and I used to roadtrip to Dollywood a couple of times a year. She’s the one thing dad’s and their gay sons can bond over,” he says. There’s a slight hint of nostalgia in his voice.

“Are…” I hesitate. I don’t want to overstep, but if he brought it up, maybe it’s okay to ask. “Are you two close?”

Benji sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “We used to be closer,” he admits. “It’s not like he hates me or anything, but things haven’t been the same since I came out to him.”

“I’m sorry. That’s really shitty.”

He looks surprised. “Yeah. It is.” We listen to a couple of seconds of the song. “You know, we talked about doing a cover of this song once. Practiced it and everything but we never got to play it to an audience.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“We were… divided,” he explains. “Two guys in our band didn’t think it lined up with our sound and when I couldn’t convince them, we scrapped it.”

“But you wanted to play it?”

“Yeah, but that’s part of being in a band. It’s not just about what I want. We’re a group.” He says it almost defensively.

“You must be really close with them,” I observe.

“We’ve been together a while. I’d just started high school when I met Derek. He was out and seemed so confident in himself. He was two years older than me, but he took me under his wing and when he found out I have a decent singing voice, he introduced me to his bandmates.”

“You’ve been with him a long time, huh?”

“Our one year is coming up in about four weeks. It took me over a year to come out to him. That entire time, he’d been waiting for me to tell him. I asked him why he hadn’t told me he knew and he just said that I needed to be ready and he couldn’t take that away from me.” Benji chuckles. “I was a mess when I was in the closet, and he was the only one that knew the first…” he looks like he’s thinking. “Six or so months of our relationship.” He shakes his head.

I try to wrap my head around the fact that he’s been out less than half a year. How is it possible when he seems so sure of himself? I want to ask, but I also realize that if I get too specific with my questions, he might become suspicious that my motivations are not purely curiosity. I decide to change the subject. I point to the speakers. “Can I hear you play this?” 

“Um… sure. If you really want to hear it.”

“I do.”

He grabs his guitar and sits back down. He spends a minute tuning it before he starts to play. The song is slower than the original, but in a way that works. There’s something different about Benji when he plays. Something about his focus and concentration. I can’t look away from him.

“What do you think?” he asks nervously.

“I think it’s a shame that I’m the only one that’s ever heard that outside of your band,” I tell him. “You’re really talented.”

“Thanks.” He has this small, pleased smile on his face, and I find a smile spreading across my face without even trying. “Do you mind if I start working on something new? I can’t get  _ Call Me Maybe _ out of my head.”

“Go for it,” I encourage.

I don’t know how long I listen to him as he plays around with the speed of the song and rearranges the lyrics. I fall asleep on the couch to the slow, melodic sound of his voice.

That night, Benji stars front and center in my dream. Instead of Derek, it’s me clad in red that he kissed at that party. Just like my other dream, people ‘boo’ us, but I don’t care this time. Because I’m in his arms and because the rules of reality are suspended in my dream world. Here, I’m strong enough to fight for something I want.

I wake up in a bit of a panic because it’s dangerous to want Benji. He’s dating Derek and I can’t get in the way of that. Besides, I don’t know for sure that Benji is who I want. I think of Mia and the Ferris Wheel and the instant popularity that bought me… Fear grips me; I don’t understand why. I push it aside and look around. Without light, there’s really nothing to illuminate the space. I can hear Benji’s soft breathing, so I know he’s still asleep.

I try to fall back asleep, but it’s useless. My heart is still racing and I can’t calm myself down. The fear I had repressed before rears its ugly head. My eyes fly open. I need my brain to not right now. That would be great. Questions and fears bounce around my head. All I long for is questions with easy answers, but I feel like they are nonexistent in my world.

My eyes start to adjust and I can make out small things - the outline of Benji’s guitar, a lump that I believe is a shoe that was kicked off to the corner, the door to his bathroom. I try to focus on those concrete, simple things rather than my confusion.

I don’t know how long I’m left alone with my thoughts before Benji’s alarm goes off. I’ve gotten acclimated to the silence, so the sudden noise makes me jump. As I process the song that’s playing, I try to stifle my laugh. The very last thing I expect to hear coming from Benji’s phone is  _ Umbrella _ .

What is even happening? Am I dreaming? Benji groans but doesn’t turn off his alarm right away. I can just make out his silhouette. He has not yet noticed my intermittent laughter that keeps escaping despite my best attempts to calm down. I think it’s partially because I’m sleep deprived and partially because the song is still playing through his phone, but it’s becoming more and more difficult not to laugh.

After a minute, the music stops. I don’t see any sign that Benji is trying to get up. I wonder if I should wake him up. Before I can make up my mind, his alarm starts to go off again. He must have snoozed it.

He is either the deepest sleeper in the world or he is determined to ignore his alarm. After a minute, it goes silent again. The silence between his alarm feels like such a short time, but I know it has to be at least five minutes. I start to get why it’s his alarm because I’m significantly more awake than I was before.  _ Umbrella  _ is definitely going to be stuck in my head on repeat now. 

As the song loops for the fourth time, I find myself singing along quietly. Benji turns on the light and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. The music shuts off and Benji has a sleepy smile on his face. His eyes are only half open. “Morning,” he yawns.

“Mornin’. What time is it?”

“How long was my alarm going off for? Ten, fifteen minutes? So, probably quarter after six,” he says. 

“That’s so early.”

“I have to be at work by seven to open with Sarah.” His eyes fully close, and I think he’s falling back asleep until he continues speaking. “You are welcome to hang out down here until eight if you’d like.”

“Oh,” I say. I had just assumed I would be walking with him to work. I guess it really doesn’t make a difference; I know how to get Brasstown on my own, and I probably should go home and see my parents.

He clearly picks up on my tone because he suggests, “or you can come with me and start early. You’ll have to fill out your payroll paperwork, and Sarah’s probably going to have you sit down with Cole.”

“Cole?” I ask. “Does he work at Brasstown too?”

Benji chuckles. “Cole is this thousand pound binder Sarah tries to get new employees to read.”

“And you call it Cole?” I ask.

“I don’t call it Cole,” Benji corrects. “The previous owner’s kid glued eyes and fake hair on it, so they named it. It’s just the employee handbook.”

“Oh.” It’s weird, but I can roll with that.

“So do you want to hang out here or go in early?”

“Are you sure it’s okay if I start early?” I ask.

He nods. “Sure thing.” He flops back down on his bed and groans. “I hate mornings.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “How late were you up?”

“I noticed you were asleep around 1.” He squints as if he’s trying to remember. “You sleep like a log.”

I grin. “My mom always says the same thing.”

Benji throws me one of his Brasstown shirts while he’s picking out his clothes for the day. At least I won’t look like a banana my first day of work. I check my phone while I wait for Benji to get dressed. There’s a message from Simon. He’s going to lose his shit when he hears about my night. I doubt even Simon will be able to wrap his head around it.

Benji’s parents have breakfast on the table when we get upstairs - they made french toast. “You must be Victor,” his mom says warmly.

“I texted her last night,” he explains quietly. “Victor, this is my mom and dad.”

I shake their hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Breakfast with Benji’s parents is… quiet. Really quiet. I feel a need to end the uncomfortable silence, but no one else talks, so I don’t either. I have a feeling that this is what Benji meant when he said things are weird. I can’t fathom why anyone would subject themselves to a silent family meal, but maybe it’s their way of trying.

Work is a whirlwind. I spend most of my morning filling out paperwork and reading through this long, dry manual that Sarah hands me - the googly eyes and random children’s drawings on the pages do nothing to make it more interesting. Once Sarah leaves, Benji is left with the task of teaching me how to make the drinks. 

He’s wary and on guard my first couple of shifts but as more time passes without me accidentally spilling something on either of us, he seems a lot more confident in my coffee making abilities. By my third week of work, I feel like I’ve really gotten the hang of everything. For the most part, I manage to work without being distracted, though Benji seems exceptionally skilled at saying something or doing something that makes my heart shutter and my mind wander.

“You’re coming to Battle of the Bands tomorrow, right?” he asks on Thursday as we’re wiping down the tables.

“Is your band playing?” I ask.

“Yeah. It would make me feel better to know I have at least one fan in the audience.”

“I think you’ll have more than that,” I say confidently. He’s objectively good at what he does. “But I’ll be there.”

“Thanks.” The smile he gives me makes my heart pound in my chest and it’s remarkably inconvenient.

I continue cleaning tables as if him and his stupid smile mean nothing to me.

I barely have the words, “Battle of the Bands” out of my mouth before Felix tells me he’s performing and insists that I have to be there.

I feel strangely nervous as I walk into Brasstown. I know I have no reason to be nervous - Benji has a boyfriend and I’m just going to support him as a friend. Despite that, my nerves tingle and my heart is pounding just slightly too fast in my chest. I’m going to blame Simon. I think because his love story worked out, he thinks Benji will be mine and I don’t have the heart to tell him there’s no way. I thought telling him about Derek would do it, but he’s still convinced that Benji is the love of my life.

It’s not terribly crowded, but there’s more people than I’m used to seeing in Brasstown. I spot Mia as I’m looking around and she waves us over. She’s standing with Lake and Andrew. Felix eagerly follows me over. I don’t think he takes his eyes off of Lake the entire night. Well, except for when he puts a giant bowling ball over his head.

Mia is so easy to talk to; it’s a refreshing change from how nervous I always feel with Benji. By the end of the night, I’m really thinking that I might like Mia. She’s so funny and kind and I find myself wanting to spend more time with her. That has to mean something, right? She doesn’t even make fun of Felix after his disastrous performance and she interferes before Andrew can.

As the last band is preparing to go on, Andrew goes to get another coffee. Lake follows him, and Felix follows her, so it’s just me and Mia left standing around a table. “Hey, so, would you want to hang out again sometime?” I ask her.

“Like a date?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“I’d really like that,” she says with a grin.

The smile that spreads across my face matches hers. “Great.” It dawns on me that I don’t have her number. I pull out my phone and quickly open a new contact. “Uh, are you cool with this?” I pass her my phone, and she eagerly puts in her number. She sends herself a text, and I can hear her phone ding softly. 

“What did you have in mind?” she asks.

I don’t get the chance to answer her right away because Benji is playing and I don’t know how anyone can focus on anything other than him when he is playing. They had to have won; I don’t think I’m biased when I say they were clearly the best. I cheer with everyone else when they finish. Andrew, Lake, and Felix get back to our table. “Bathroom,” Mia says, grabbing Lake.

Lake barely has time to put down her drink before she follows Mia. “What’s that about?” Andrew asks.

I shrug. I have my suspicions, but I don’t know for sure.

When Mia and Lake get back, Mia is all smiles and Lake keeps shooting me excited looks. Clearly Mia filled her in. “What do you say we go look at the line up again?” Lake suggests. “See if we can figure out who won.” As if there’s any question. It takes me an embarrassingly long time to realize why Lake suggested that. It’s not until Mia moves a little closer to me that I realize we’re alone again.

Sarah announces that Benji’s band won and they get to come up for an encore. There’s no surprise there, but it means that Felix, Lake, and Andrew will be back soon. Mia leans over towards me. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Benji setting something up on stage, but I force myself to focus on Mia. “Nothing.” 

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” I don’t think I’m imagining her excitement. It kind of lights up her face.

“I work until 4, but I could hang after that.”

“Perfect.” She has a really pretty smile. I don’t know why I didn’t notice that before. “Would you want to come over? My dad’s out of town. We could make dinner and watch a movie,” she suggests.

I nod. “That sounds great.” I’m filled with jittery nerves, and I know why. This will be my first date that’s not the result of my friends ditching me so I’d be alone with a girl. This is the first date I’m actually looking forward to.

Felix, Lake, and Andrew get back then and we wait in silence as Benji’s band finishes setting up for their encore. When they start playing, it’s like everything around me fades away. I can only listen in awe to the cover of  _ Call Me Maybe _ that they’re playing. 

Even when we say our goodbyes, and Felix and I walk home, my mind is only on that song. I’d thought I heard enough of it in Benji’s basement, but there’s something about how it sounds when the whole band played it that has me lost in their music. If Felix notices something is off with me, he doesn’t say anything.

When I get home, my mom and dad are sitting on the couch. I glance at Pilar’s door where I can hear loud music blasting. My mom must see my surprise that no one’s picking a fight to get Pilar to turn off the music because she explains, “it’s fine for tonight. She finally talked to Eric. That first talk after a breakup is always hard.” 

“Is she okay.”

My mom nods. “She’ll be fine. Your sister is strong. How was Battle of the Bands?” 

I feel a little guilty being so happy when Pilar obviously had a really terrible night, but I can’t help my smile. “It was really great. That guy I work with? His band won.”

“That’s nice,” my mom says.

“I… uh, hung out with Mia tonight.” It almost sounds like a confession. “I think I’m going to go out with her tomorrow night, if that’s okay with you.”

I probably wouldn’t have told them, but just in case they were planning on asking me to watch Adrian, I wanted to make sure they knew.

I suddenly have their undivided attention. “Is this a date?” my dad asks. His face is lighting up with excitement. I don’t know if it’s because I look happy or because I’m finally interested in someone, but he looks as excited as I am for the date.

It makes me want to play it a little more casual than I’d originally planned. I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Of course, we’re okay with it,” my mom says. “Where are you taking her?”

“I think we’re just going to hang out at her place. Make some dinner, watch a movie. You know. I’m really tired, so I think I’m going to shower and go to bed.”

Once upon a time, it had been easier to talk to my parents, but there’s something off about them lately. I don’t know if it’s stress from the move, but they’ve been arguing a lot more and they seem more on edge around each other.

They don’t push me for anymore information, and I retreat to my bedroom. I plug my phone in to charge, take a quick shower, and lie in bed with  _ Call Me Maybe  _ looping through my thoughts. Benji’s voice wraps around me, and I find myself drifting off to sleep.

When I get to work on Saturday, Sarah is already gone. I’m not late, so they must’ve opened pretty quickly this morning. I’m surprised because I’m early and last week, Sarah sat me down with Cole and spent well over an hour opening with Benji.

“Morning,” I call. I can hear Benji moving stuff around as I put my bag in my locker.

When I go out front, he’s trying to balance a box of cups, a bag of coffee filters, and several thick bags that I can’t fully see through. “Sarah got sick this morning, so she’s at urgent care. I had to open by myself, so I’m not totally ready yet.”

“You should have called me. I could have helped. What can I do?”

We’re a blur of filling the espresso machine, refilling the ice machine, refilling the flavor pumps, and stacking cups. It seems like people can sense when we’re ready for them because the moment I toss the last empty bag in the trash, a line starts to form.

“Thanks,” Benji says when we finally have a break. “That would’ve been a disaster if you hadn’t been here to help.”

“Anytime.”

“Hey, what are you doing tonight? Some of my friends and I were thinking of going to the movies,” he says nonchalantly.

My heart is pounding. He wants to see me outside of work. I almost say yes when I remember that I’m seeing Mia tonight. “I can’t. I have… a date with Mia,” I explain. I can’t quite look him in the eye, and I feel weirdly excited and disappointed when I think about my date. I want to go on this date and spend more time with Mia, but I also want to hang out with Benji.

“A date, huh?” Benji asks with a wink. “Where are you taking her?”

“We’re just hanging out at her place.”

“Huh. Okay,” Benji says.

“What?” I ask curiously. He’s giving me a weird look, and I can’t figure out why.

He shrugs. “I’m just surprised is all.” He’s suddenly very focused on cleaning a mug.

“Why?” I press.

“I just didn’t think you and Mia would be moving that fast,” he explains. “I think it’s great. I’m just surprised.”

“Moving fast?” I ask, scrunching up my forehead. “It’s our first date; we’re just making dinner and watching a movie.”

“In her big house where she’s all alone?” he asks skeptically. “I don’t know much about Mia, but I do know she practically lives by herself.”

I freeze as his words click. She’d told me her dad is out of town but that doesn’t automatically mean she’s expecting sex, does it? Or did I miss some code that means that she is expecting it. “I… uh…”

He must see how flustered I’m getting because he chuckles. “You really didn’t think of that, did you?” he asks.

“No. You don’t think she’s expecting me to sleep with her, do you? I mean, this is our first date. We haven’t even kissed yet.”

He shrugs. “Like I said, I don’t really know her.”

I pretend to clean up so he won’t see my face, but I somehow knock over our pitcher of cream. When I’m reaching for the rag to clean it up, I knock over an entire stack of cups. Benji is struggling not to laugh. He takes one look at the disgruntled expression on my face and loses it. “It’s not funny,” I say. Except, his laughter is apparently contagious, so I can’t keep the smile off my face. I throw the rag at him and when he steps forward to catch it, his foot slips in the puddle of cream and he starts to fall. I try to catch him but only succeed in losing my balance as well.

I land right on top of him and can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Are you okay?” I ask. He doesn’t answer me, but I can still feel his laughter, so I take that to mean he’s fine. “Stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Your reaction. I can’t.” He takes deep breaths while I figure out how to stand up without crushing him.

I finally see his face, and he’s actually crying because he’s laughing so hard. I offer him my hand to help him stand up. I don’t immediately let go of his hand once he climbs to his feet because it’s like I’m suddenly aware that I’m holding his hand.

It’s not until someone clears their throat to order coffee that I let his hand fall. “You help him; I’ll clean up,” I say. I don’t make eye contact with him as I clean up the cream and cups. I feel like I’m coming down from an adrenaline rush, and I can’t fully understand why.

The guy orders eight coffees and half of the baked goods we have on display, so once I clean up, I help Benji with the order.

When we’re finished, I lean back against the counter. Benji looks at me and snorts. “Sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair. “That was hilarious.”

“It wasn’t that funny.” I try to grumble, but Benji makes it really difficult not to laugh.

“I wish you could’ve seen your face.” Benji shakes his head. “But in all seriousness, if you’re not ready to sleep with her, don’t sleep with her. Why’d you get so nervous anyway?”

“Where I’m from, sex is a really big deal,” I say quietly. “I’ve never…”

“You’re a virgin,” Benji realizes. I nod. “Do you want to have sex with Mia or are you just nervous because it would be your first time?”

“Is there a difference?” I ask. There’s a little more bite to my words than I intend but right now, it feels like those are the same thing.

Benji looks up. “The first time I had sex was my freshman year. I slept with this girl that was two years older than me,” he says slowly. “I told myself the only reason that I was so uncomfortable with the idea of having sex with her was because I’d never done it before. I’m not saying it’s exactly the same because I’m gay and that’s a big part of the reason I wasn’t attracted to her, but there is a big difference between not wanting to have sex because you’re not attracted to someone and not wanting to have sex because you’re nervous.”

I look at the floor. He’s right. “How do you know which it is?” I ask.

“I don’t know if I have that answer,” he admits. He kind of hunches his shoulders just slightly and looks at me. “All I can say in hindsight is that there was a big difference between how I felt before sleeping with someone I was attracted to.”

I try not to look too uncomfortable, but I’m 99% sure he’s talking about Derek. Something else dawns on me. “You had sex with a girl? But you’re…”

“Gay?” Benji chuckles, but there’s no humor behind his laugh. “Two different girls, believe it or not. Turns out figuring yourself out is messy.” He sighs. He leans forward and rests his elbows on the counter. “There are so many things I regret from when I was in the closet but they’re at the top of the list. It’s hard to let go of that because I knew I was gay, but I didn’t want to be gay. I hurt them because of my own denial.”

“Is it denial or did you think you might like them?” I ask curiously.

He shakes his head. “I knew I was gay, but I didn’t want to be. I thought if I pretended long enough, I could make myself like them. It’s not fair to them that I wasn’t upfront with them.”

I cringe and do my best to compose myself before he can see. It feels like he’s channeling my deepest fears and insecurities. I stand next to him and mimic his pose. “I don’t think you should hold that over yourself,” I say quietly. “I can’t pretend to know who you were before, but I know a little about who you are now. You’re a good guy, Benji.”

“Thanks,” he says. He looks at me surprised.

I shrug. “You don’t need to thank me for the truth.”

He looks like he’s going to say something but before he can, a woman comes in and orders a cup of coffee. Another guy is hot on her heels, and then we’re in the throng of our lunch rush. As our line dies down, before he has the chance to bring up Mia or sex, I ask, “so what movie are you going to see?”

We manage to pass the rest of our shift by talking about safe, comfortable things. I’m almost relieved when our shift is over. As much as I like talking to Benji, he’s a constant reminder that I’m figuring things out. “Have fun tonight,” he tells me as he hangs up his apron. “But not too much fun.”

He winks at me and I can’t help but laugh. “Have fun at the movies.”

That mix of nervous excitement is twirling in my chest as I walk home. I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I’m praying that Benji’s wrong and Mia’s not expecting sex tonight.

I’m antsy the entire time I’m home. I don’t have to be at Mia’s until 6 and down time does not suit me. By the time I get to Mia’s house, I’m convinced that I’m about to enter the most painfully awkward first date that has ever happened. Why didn’t I suggest going out somewhere? Why did I agree to her house?

I try to push aside my frustration at myself for not thinking this through. If I’m reading into this too much and this is really just going to be a first date, I want it to go well. It can’t go well if I’m obsessing over what could happen instead of what’s currently happening.

It takes me several minutes of awkwardly loitering outside her front door before I ring the doorbell.

She is beautiful when she answers the door. “Wow. You look really nice,” I tell her sincerely.

She smiles at me, and I feel my heart thump just slightly faster. “Thanks.” I follow Mia to the kitchen where she has an assortment of ingredients out on her counter. “I had this crazy idea that we could try to make sushi tonight. I’ve been watching a few videos on it. If you don’t like it, we could make something else.”

“Sushi sounds great,” I assure her.

It’s actually a lot of fun. I feel like I meet this whole new side of Mia while we talk and make sushi. We turn it into a competition and each of us makes our own flavor combinations.

We carry our trays of sushi to the living room; we made far more than any two human beings can actually eat. It’s not bad - it’s a little bigger than actual sushi, but it mostly tastes delicious. “This came out so good,” Mia says. She looks really pleased with herself. “Should we take to the road and make a living with sushi?”

I laugh. “I think that’s definitely a possible career option, but we might have to see how our experimental sushi came out before we make any plans. Here. This is mango, avocado, cucumber, cream cheese, and tuna.” I just put a little of everything that was left in my sushi roll. I hold out a piece for her and she eats it off of my chopsticks.

Her eyes widen. “You might be a sushi genius.”

I take a bite myself, and I’m pleasantly surprised. “I might be. Okay, your turn.”

She picks up a piece of sushi. “This is cucumber, salmon, tuna, crab, and yellowfish. I call it, something’s fishy.” She’s clearly proud of that. She holds out the piece to me but drops it before I can grab it. We both reach to pick it up and nervously chuckle when we do a back and forth of reaching for it and stopping. I finally put my hand over hers and grab it with my left hand. I don’t immediately drop her hand. The contact makes me feel warm and I’m starting to feel little butterflies in my stomach.

I quickly pull back. “It looked good until someone dropped it,” I tease.

“Good thing I made more.” She picks up another piece and this one makes it all the way to my mouth. It’s definitely fishy. It’s not my favorite sushi, but I’m not going to tell her that. She’s clearly really proud of it.

“That settles it. I say we buy a food truck.”

Mia giggles. “Deal.”

“So now we gotta think of names,” I point out. “Obviously your sushi creation would be called Something’s Fishy, but what do we call our business?”

We go back and forth, coming up with more and more ridiculous names. Our remaining sushi is long forgotten as we try to imagine the perfect name for our fantasy food truck. It’s when Mia suggests whatsabi that it happens. We’re sitting so close to each other and her hand lands on my knee. Her face is practically lit up with laughter and I don’t think a more perfect moment has ever existed in this world. Our laughter fades when we make eye contact and I realize what’s coming a split second before her eyes flicker shut.

I lean in just slightly until we kiss. It’s a little anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong, I really like kissing her, but I thought it would be more than butterflies. I let my eyes drift shut and suddenly, I’m not seeing Mia and the butterflies are going wild.

My eyes fly open and I pull back from her. I try to compose myself before she can see my expression. “I, uh, I should go,” I say quietly. “My parents didn’t want me home too late.”

“Oh. Okay,” she says surprised.

“I’ll text you when I get back?” I ask.

She nods. I stand up and help her to her feet. I kiss her cheek before I go.

I could wait for the bus, but I need to clear my head so I walk home.

I text Mia about halfway through my walk. I avoid telling her that I’m home because I don’t want to lie to her.

Sunday is a homework day. At least, that’s what I tell my parents. I mostly am going back and forth with Simon on Instagram. He’s trying to convince me that I should have felt more than butterflies with Mia. Admittedly, I’m convinced; I just really don’t want to be convinced. I really want things to be able to work out with Mia. The other complication is Benji. His words from yesterday won’t leave me and I don’t know if I’m leading Mia on if I try to start a relationship with her. I like her, but do I like her in the right way?

I’m not avoiding it, but I do feel immensely relieved when she doesn’t bring up our date during lunch. It gives me more time to figure out how to tell her that I think we should just be friends.

“How’d your date go with Mia?” Benji asks eagerly when I get to Brasstown on Monday.

He has a pad of paper open and looks like he’s writing something. I look over his shoulder and am amazed to see that he’s drawing in a sketchbook. “Wow. That’s amazing,” I say surprised. “I didn’t know you could draw.” 

“Are you avoiding my question?” he asks.

Kind of. I shake my head. “No. I just really didn’t know. That looks really cool.”

“Do you even know what I’m drawing?” he asks. He closes his sketchbook.

“I think I saw the espresso machine,” I guess.

He chuckles. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s a new one I’m starting. I know I’m supposed to draw the background last, but it helps me scale to have some of it drawn at the beginning. Especially if I know my person isn’t going to overlap.”

“Who are you drawing?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” He disappears in the back, probably to put his sketchbook in his locker. “Are you going to tell me about your date now?”

“Uh… it was fine, I guess,” I say slowly. 

“Except, you’re making your scrunched uncomfortable face, so I’m guessing it wasn’t. What happened?” he asks curiously.

“I… don’t really know.” I don’t even know how to explain this to him without sounding crazy. “We ended up hanging out at her place, and we were having a really great time, but then we kissed.”

He frowns. “Is she a bad kisser or something?”

I really don’t have enough to compare it to to know for sure, but I’m not going to tell him that. “It’s not that. I just… didn’t feel what I thought I’d feel. I don’t know; maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe it’s not supposed to be like fireworks. I just figured… I really like her, so I thought it would be something more.”

Benji chuckles. “So, you’re not attracted to her.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Mia’s really great and beautiful and funny. I want to be with her, but something doesn’t feel right.”

“Is she your first girlfriend?” he wonders.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I instinctively correct. “But, yeah. She’s the first girl I’ve liked like this. That’s what’s confusing.” I feel my forehead scrunch. “Mia’s awesome, and I really like her. I thought being with her would feel like walking on water, but I kind of feel like I’m drowning just trying to keep up. Wow… that might be the corniest thing I’ve ever said.”

Benji chuckles but looks perplexed. “I actually kind of like it. It sounds like a song lyric.” He puts the cleaning rag in his pocket and crosses his arms. “Maybe you like her but only as a friend.”

“Maybe,” I say gloomily.

“The right girl will come along. Don’t worry,” he assures me.

I can’t look at him because I really don’t think the right girl will come along. I think back to when Mia and I kissed. How I felt those butterflies and then Benji popped into my head. I feel more just thinking about kissing Benji than I did when I kissed Mia.

When I get home from work, Pilar is blasting her music. Blasting. This can’t still be about Eric. 

I knock on her door tentatively. “Hey. Are you okay?” I ask her. She is sitting on her bed, staring at the wall. She shakes her head. “Can I come in?” She nods. I take a few steps inside and shut the door behind me. I don’t know how she stands it. Her music is so loud. “Do you think we could lower this a little?” She doesn’t answer me, but she also doesn’t object when I lower the volume. “What’s going on?”

Pilar bites her lip. “You know that mom had me set up her Facebook account?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

“Some guy named Roger messaged her. I think mom’s having an affair,” she tells me.

It’s not possible. It can’t be possible. Pilar says something, but I can’t hear it over the ringing in my ears. “How do you know?” I think I manage to get the words out.

Pilar pulls up our mom’s Facebook and shows me the messages. There are four messages from him, but she hasn’t responded. “Maybe she hasn’t answered him because he’s some random creep on the internet,” I suggest.

“No, she hasn’t answered him because I told her that her profile had a virus,” Pilar argues. “Look at his messages. Look at the things he’s saying to her.”

I don’t need to look again; once was enough. I shake my head. “This is mom we’re talking about. She would never cheat on dad. You know her.”

Pilar shakes her head. “No, I don’t; not anymore. I don’t think you do either.”

I can’t be here anymore. “I don’t believe it,” I say before I leave. 

I have trouble sitting still the rest of the night. I can’t look at my mom during dinner, and I excuse myself at the earliest possible time. I don’t need to look to know Pilar is right behind me. “Okay,” I say when she follows me into my room. “What do we do? How do we find out?”

“Leave it to me.” She doesn’t say anything other than that before she leaves. I hate this. I hate that there’s even the slightest possibility that this is true.

I try to focus on homework, but I can barely concentrate long enough to write my name out, so my teachers are going to have to settle for half-assed answers. Once I finish homework, I try to fall asleep. Eventually, I must succeed, but whatever sleep I got was not enough to fend off my growing exhaustion.


	2. Yellow

**Chapter 2:** Yellow

Felix and I stop by Brasstown on our way to school. “Oh, Victor, great,” Sarah says when she sees me. “I was going to have Benji text you. I had to move around the schedule for this weekend. Can you take a look at it real quick and let me know if it doesn’t work?”

I think Felix orders something for me, but I’m already heading into the back to look at the calendar that’s pinned to the wall, so I don’t hear what it is. I’m surprised when I’m on Saturday and Sunday. When I go out front, I’m about to tell Sarah I’m fine with the schedule, but I don’t have the chance to. In true Sarah fashion, she jumped to a conclusion that I never would have thought of. “Before you ask, the workweek starts on Sunday, so I am not violating any labor laws. You’ll be off next week for your birthday and then my life will be so much easier.” 

I snort. She’s not wrong. Because I’m fifteen, there are a ton of restrictions on when I can work. She let me know my first day that I was on a modified schedule and I’d be picking up more hours once I turn 16. I think Sarah is more excited for my sixteenth birthday than I am.

“That’s fine with me,” I assure her. It’s not like I have anything better to do this weekend. If I ever talk to Mia, that is. I really have to talk to her.

School is just awful. I’m exhausted but also weirdly keyed up the entire day. It is a combination that only makes me increasingly agitated throughout the day.

By the time I get to work, I’m ready for my day to be over. Basketball practice was the only time I felt remotely human, so my plan is to survive my shift and then spend as long as possible on a basketball court near my apartment. I honestly don’t care if I end up staying out there all night; I’m not going home until I am absolutely ready to.

“Hey, did you check the schedule?” Benji asks me once I walk in the door. He points towards the back. “I forgot that Sarah’s going to be gone for a wedding Saturday and Sunday or else I would have given you a heads up last week. Are you cool with this?”

“Yeah, of course.” I shrug. “The less time I’m home, the better.” 

“What’s going on?” he asks worriedly.

I bite my lip. We don’t tell other people about family drama; it’s one of our unspoken rules. “Just parent drama. You know,” I say with a shrug. 

He nods. “Yeah, I get that.” There’s not a single person waiting for coffee, so there’s nothing to distract me from the disappointment in his expression. 

It dawns on me that he actually wants to know. I’m even more surprised when I realize I kind of want to tell him. Part of me is hoping that if I tell him, he’ll confirm that Roger is probably just some creepy stalker, but I’m just as terrified that he’ll somehow be able to confirm that my mom cheated. “My, uh, sister thinks my mom cheated on my dad.”

“Oh, wow,” he says. “Are you okay?”

I hang my head. “I just thought… I thought I knew my mom better than anyone.” That’s really what hurts. My mom and I have always been close and to think that she could do something like this goes against everything I know about her.

“Are you sure that she cheated?” Benji asks.

“Pilar is trying to find out, but our mom got these messages on Facebook from this guy, Roger. He was saying how much he missed her and how he knows they’re not supposed to talk, but it’s too hard to stay away from her. I don’t want it to be true, but…”

“But?” he presses.

“But what if it is true? If my mom could throw away everything…” I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I just don’t think we could ever forgive her.”

He hesitates a moment. “Unfortunately, I think this is one of those things that only gets easier with time,” he admits. “Time means perspective, is what my mom used to say. I know it’s not the same thing, but my mom cheated on my dad when they were in college. They went through a rough patch when she told him, but they came out of it stronger. When my mom cheated, she realized how much she loved my dad. Twenty-five years later and they’re still going strong.”

“Yeah, but your mom was young,” I point out.

He shrugs. “She was 21. I believe in things like fate, destiny, and love because of my parents. They taught me that no worthwhile relationship is without its struggles.” An uncertain look crosses his face, but he quickly hides it. “All I’m trying to say is this doesn’t have to be the end of everything. It sucks that it happened but if you want to, you can work through this with your family.”

I nod. “Thanks.” I’m not looking at him because I don’t share his confidence. My mom is the person that holds us all together. I think we might crumble if this is true.

“Do you want to do something after work today?” Benji asks. “I’d be happy to buy you some time before you had to go home.”

“You don’t have plans with Derek?” I ask surprised. It seems like most nights he goes from work to band practice or to see Derek.

“No… we… got into a fight last night,” he admits.

“About what?” I ask.

“Something stupid. I feel like I’m always doing what he wants to do, but he never does that for me,” Benji explains. “It’s just really frustrating sometimes. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but…”

“I think it makes a lot of sense,” I interrupt. “Did you tell him that?”

“Not in those words.” Benji runs his hands through his hair. I’m starting to notice that it’s something he does when he’s nervous, upset, or concentrating. Not that I’m noticing him an abnormal amount. I think it’s natural to start picking up on these things when you spend approximately 17 hours a week with someone.

“I think you should. Look, I’ve only met Derek twice, but he’s clearly crazy about you,” I tell him. “I think if you talk to him about this, he’ll do whatever you want him to do with you.”

“Probably.” Benji still doesn’t look happy.

“What’s that look?” I press

“What look?” Benji turns away from me which makes me think he knows exactly which look I’m talking about.

“That disgruntled hedgehog look.” I motion to his face.

Benji bites his lip, but I can still see the corners twitch up into a smile. “Disgruntled hedgehog?”

“It’s something my mom used to say,” I admit. “Someone she knew when she was younger bred hedgehogs and she insisted they always look grumpy. Whenever we looked upset about something for no reason, she told us we looked like a disgruntled hedgehog. And right now, you are definitely a disgruntled hedgehog. How many times are you going to make me say disgruntled hedgehog before you tell me what’s going on?”

Benji chuckles. “I guess what you’re seeing is that… I don’t think I should have to convince him to do something I like. I want him to want to do this stuff with me, you know?”

I frown. “Yeah. So what are you going to do,” I ask. I start to make us coffee because Brasstown is confusingly slow, and I feel like I need to do something with my hands.

“I don’t know yet.” He lets out a frustrated groan. “I’m going to give myself some space. I’ll talk to him tomorrow or Thursday, but for now, I really don’t want to think about it.”

I hand him the coffee I just made and hold up my own cup. “To avoiding our problems today?”

He taps his cup to mine. “To avoiding our problems,” he agrees before he takes a quick sip. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was going to play some basketball after work. There’s a court by the apartment I live in but if you don’t want to, we could figure something else out.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m not the best basketball player, but maybe you could teach me,” he suggests.

I take a sip of coffee to distract myself and immediately burn my tongue. I huff to let out some of the heat. I feel like my brain is trying to tell me something with the swirling in my stomach, but I can’t even begin to figure out what that something is. “Alright then.”

We serve maybe four drinks and one muffin the entire night. It’s a really slow night, even for a Tuesday. We end up working on some homework - Benji doing homework is kind of hilarious because he really hates homework and mostly ends up doodling over his assignment. I don’t know why he hates it so much because it takes him all of thirty minutes to finish.

When he finishes his homework, he pulls out his sketchbook and works on some top secret drawing he won’t let me see. Trust me, I try.

I try not to think about what he’s doing while I work through Geometry. When I finally get to close my textbook and put away my books, Benji looks over at me. “Are you finally done?” he teases. “I was running out of stuff to work on.”

I roll my eyes. “Easy enough for you to say. You didn’t have to do Geometry,” I point out.

“But I did have to do Algebra 2. Trust me, it’s worse,” he says confidently as he closes his sketchbook.

I groan. “Do I get to find out what you were drawing now that we’re done with homework?” I ask hopefully.

Benji chuckles. “Not yet. You’ll get to see it when it’s done. Promise. Besides, I think we can start to close. We’re a ghost town tonight.”

It’s an easy enough closing, mostly because we barely had the chance to make a mess, so the only thing we really have to do is clean the machines and mop. My heart is pounding with anticipation the entire time. 

Once we finish and Benji has pulled on his jacket, I ask, “are you sure you’re cool with basketball? We really can do something else.”

He shrugs. “I’m kind of curious. I know you really like it. I want to see what all of the fuss is about.”

I grab my basketball bag, and he walks with me to the basketball court. I’m pleasantly surprised by how well lit the court is. We drop our stuff at the edge, and I toss him the basketball. He catches it, which I think is a good sign.

It’s not. Benji is truly terrible at basketball. How can someone in such great shape have such horrible aim? He has trouble keeping track of the ball if he’s not looking at it. If there’s no pressure on him, he can take his time and make a basket, but the moment I try to block him, it’s like he doesn’t know how to shoot.

The most comical is when he tries to block me. He’s all arms, and I think he’s trying to distract me enough to get the ball from me. Honestly, it makes me laugh so much, sometimes it works.

We have to be playing for over an hour before I steal the basketball from him and dribble to halfcourt. “Okay. Next basket wins,” I tell him. It’s really quite generous of me because there’s no way that we’re anywhere near being tied right now, but I want him to think he has a shot.

He brushes his hair out of his eyes. He’s breathing heavy, and his cheeks seem to be permanently stained red. He nods and stands in front of me with his arms out.

Instead of crazily waving his arms, like he’s done every other time, he charges at me. It surprises me enough that he gets his arms around the basketball. He’s every bit as surprised as I am, so he doesn’t have the best grip on it.

We get into a back and forth that eventually has us reduced to hysterical laughter. I start to get that feeling like my limbs have lost their strength and when he tries to pull the ball away from me, I fall, bringing him and the basketball with me.

He lands so he’s draped over my chest and his head is about five inches away from mine. We’re still laughing, but my smile is rapidly fading as my stomach twirls in anticipation. He’s so close. So close. And he’s not trying to stand up. I don’t think I imagine that his eyes flicker to my lips and then back to my eyes.

In that moment, I know. I know I like Benji on the pure basis of how much I want him to want to kiss me. I know why it’s not going to work out with Mia no matter how much I might want it to. At the end of the day, I’d rather spend a lifetime in a moment like this filled with nervous anticipation and desire than a single second kissing Mia. The feeling spreading through me right now? It’s exhilarating and hopeful and needy.

He starts to lean down and my heart is pounding. I let my eyes close. Before I have the chance to find out if he’s going to kiss me, his phone rings.

What kind of cruel trick of the universe is that? I mean, seriously. Who had to call at this exact second? What couldn’t wait just a little bit? Just long enough for me to know what he was going to do.

Benji quickly climbs off of me and runs to where his phone is sitting on top of his jacket. “It’s Derek,” he says quietly. It stops feeling like a cruel trick of the universe and starts feeling like a reminder. It doesn’t matter if I like him; Benji has a boyfriend. He doesn’t answer his phone, and I don’t know if he’s going to talk about what just happened. I don’t know if it’s all in my head or if he felt it too. Maybe he wasn’t going to kiss me. Maybe he was just so surprised that he stopped me from winning that he couldn’t get up right away. “I should head home; I need to call him back.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” I agree. “Thanks for doing this tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.” He’s still not looking at me, so I kind of have a feeling that he’s not being entirely honest with me. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“See you.” I don’t take my eyes off of him as he walks away. I feel disappointed and guilty and mad and sad; I can’t even quite explain it. It’s kind of like I feel like… why? Why did I have to realize my feelings just to complicate my already complicated life? Why can’t I fall in love with Mia? Don’t I already have enough going on with a potentially cheating mother? I feel an intense need to do something; I need to get this all out. I cannot keep it to myself because I feel like I will surely implode if I do. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to like Benji. Seriously, screw Benji with his perfect hair and his stupid smile and his eyes and his tight shirts. Why couldn’t he be a shitty listener? Or just like a bad person? Hell, I’d take him being a deeply mediocre person. It would be so much easier not to like him if he wasn’t the total package.

I don’t go inside right away; instead, I grab my phone and sit on the court. I text Felix.  _ Dont have walkie. Can you come outside? _

While I’m waiting for an answer, I message Simon. I can’t really say I’m confused because I know how I feel, but I’m confused about what I’m supposed to do now. What do I do with an almost kiss and a certainty that I like Benji when nothing can ever come of it? What do I do with the confirmation that I’m not into girls? The very thought makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up. 

Felix never answers me, but I see him when he comes outside. I grab my bag and walk towards the front of the apartment.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

It had been a spur of the moment decision to tell Felix, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s not the right time. I sit down on the brick half-wall that lines the grass, and he takes a seat next to me. I take a deep breath, but the words are lost. I don’t know how to tell him.

All I can hear in my head is,  _ you don’t want people to get the wrong idea _ . “This must be really serious,” he says quietly. I can only nod. “Whatever it is, you can trust me. Unless you hooked up with Lake. That would be crossing a line.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “No, I definitely didn’t hook up with Lake,” I assure him.

“Then what’s going on?” he asks.

“I… like… Benji,” I say quietly.

“Well, yeah. I figured. You work with him every day. Did you think I’d be jealous that you have another friend because I am so not that kind of bro.” 

I stare. Did he just call himself my bro? I feel like every time I talk to him, I unlock a strange new nuance. In a weird way, that makes me feel better. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, I like him. Like, I’m into him.”

It takes a second, but I can see the exact moment that he understands what I’m saying. “But… Mia.”

I shake my head. I really need to talk to her. Especially now, I know I can’t put this off much longer. “I wanted to like Mia. So badly. But when I’m with her, I don’t feel the way I should. I’ve been questioning whether I might be… into guys for a while,” I explain. I groan. “I…” I shake my head. “I’m never going to like Mia the way she deserves to be liked.”

“Okay.” His voice is barely audible, and I’m not looking at him, so I’m thrown off when he hugs me.

It takes me a minute but eventually, I hug him back. “I don’t know the right thing to say… I just want you to know that you’re my best friend. It doesn’t matter to me who you like. I think you are perfect exactly the way you are.”

“As far as the right thing to say, that was pretty close.”

In the faint light from the front of our apartment building, I can see that he’s smiling. “What are you going to do about Benji?”

“Nothing.” The word is hard to get out because I want to be able to do something. I want to be able to proclaim my feelings for Benji and get the love story that Simon is always telling me I deserve. “He has a boyfriend. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

“I know this isn’t my place, but I really think you need to tell Mia. She really likes you, and I think that maybe she thinks she did something wrong because you haven’t really talked to her since your date.” I look at him suspiciously and he holds his hands up. “Girls talk. I’m just saying if you know for sure that it’s not going to work out, and I think we both know it’s not, you should tell her now.”

I look down at the ground. I know he’s right, but I wish there was a way to do this without hurting Mia.

We sit outside for a few more minutes before Felix is practically shivering. “Are you gonna go in?” he asks.

“I’m gonna stay out here for a few more minutes,” I promise. “Like you said, I have to talk to Mia.”

“Yikes. Good luck,” he tells me.

Once he disappears, I call Mia. “Hey,” she answers. Instantly, I know I can’t do this over the phone. It’s not fair to either of us. I cannot tell her the truth over the phone and I think she deserves that. She deserves to know why it’s not going to work.

I don’t know if I have it in me to have another conversation like the one I just had with Felix, but I don’t see a way around it. I already called her. “Hey. Are you home?” I ask.

“Uh, yeah. Did you want to come over?”

“I really need to talk to you. I’ll be there in about ten minutes if you’re cool with that.” I’m hoping she’ll say it’s too late, but she doesn’t.

The bus is at the stop when I walk up. I have to run so it won’t leave without me. Without having to wait for the bus, I’m at Mia’s in just a few minutes. I text her when I’m outside because I’m not sure if her dad is home.

She opens the door to let me in. She’s in pajamas and looks exhausted. “What’s up?” she asks. She’s looking at me suspiciously, and I know I deserve that.

“I think I owe you an explanation.” She frowns but leads me into her family room. “Look, Mia. I think you’re really great. You’re absolutely beautiful and you’re funny and you’re so easy to talk to. I like you more than I’ve ever liked a girl before. If I was into girls, I think you would be perfect for me.”

Mia looks up at me surprised. “If you were into girls,” she repeats slowly. “Victor, what are you saying?”

Heat starts to spread through my chest. “I’m saying that our date on Saturday was amazing, but I will never be able to like you the way you deserve to be liked. I’m really sorry. I wanted to like you, and part of me does. But…”

“But not in the right way,” she guesses.

“Yeah,” I confirm. “I really hope we can be friends because I like hanging out with you.”

She wipes under her eyes, and I realize that she’s started to cry. “Of course we can be friends,” she assures me. “It’s gonna take some time for me to wrap my head around this, but I’ll get there. Thank you for telling me.” We’re quiet for a minute and I wonder if that’s my cue to leave. Before I have a chance to figure that out, she asks, “Can I ask you a question as a friend?”

“Of course.”

“Did you know? Before we went on our date.”

“I didn’t know for sure.” I rub the back of my neck as if that will help me figure out how to explain this. “When I was living in Texas, I started to think I might be… you know. It’s not easy to be different in Texas, and I couldn’t tell where my confusion was coming from. Was it because I liked guys or was it because I knew it wasn’t an option with my parents and friends? Every time they made a comment, I couldn’t figure out if I was uncomfortable on behalf of someone else or for me. Then we moved here, and I met you. I only got more confused.”

“Then what helped you realize?” she wonders.

“Benji,” I admit. “I’ve been working with him at the coffee shop and, I don’t know, it’s different with him. I don’t feel like I have to try to like him. I just do.”

She doesn’t really look surprised. “Are you and Benji together now?” she asks.

“No,” I say as I shake my head. “He has a boyfriend.”

I’ve been looking down at my hands, so I’m surprised when she puts her hand over mine. “Thanks for being honest with me,” she says. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was expecting anger. I think dating here is much more casual than it was back in Texas. “Thanks for taking it so well.”

She shrugs. “I should get to bed, but I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” She walks me to the front door and gives me a long hug. I hear her sniffle when she turns away from me, and my heart feels heavy when I realize that she’s trying to hide how upset she is.

I consider walking back, but it’s really late and I was past curfew before I even talked to Felix, so I know I need to get home sooner rather than later.

When I get home, my mom is sitting on the couch with a stony look on her face. “Where have you been?” she asks the moment I walk in the door. “Do you realize what time it is?”

“I was out,” I say with a shrug. There’s something about seeing her that immediately puts me on the defensive. I know I’m in the wrong but, looking at her, I can’t see how anything I could possibly do would be as bad as her cheating on dad. Violating curfew seems like such an inconsequential thing comparatively. I don’t know when I started to believe it, maybe I always did, but I wish I could go back to before Pilar ever told me.

“You were out,” she says. She nods angrily and scrunches up her mouth the way she always does when she gets mad. “And what, you just figured you wouldn’t let us know that you were going to be home over two hours past your curfew?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” There’s way more bite to my words than I intend for there to be. “I just lost track of time.”

“What is this attitude?” she asks as she gestures towards me.

“I have an attitude,” I scoff. “That’s rich.”

“Victor, what’s going on? This isn’t like you.”’

“How would you know?” I challenge. “Do you actually know me, or do you know me as well as I thought I knew you?” I don’t realize how loud I’m being until I hear footsteps in the hallway.

“What is that supposed to mean?” my mom asks.

“You cheated on dad.” I don’t say it like a question, but I’m still hoping my mom will deny it.

Her eyes get wide, and she stares at me horrified. It’s confirmation enough. I feel like I’m going to be sick. “Oh my God,” she whispers.

“Does he know?” I ask. “Does he know what you did?”

“Yes,” my dad says from behind me. I turn to face him. He and Pilar are standing in the hallway. Pilar looks like her world is crumbling while my dad just looks defeated. “It wasn’t easy, but she was honest with me.”

“Honest.” What the actual fuck? He knows. He knows and he thinks she’s honest?

“Come on. We don’t want to wake up your brother. Let’s sit down and talk about this,” my dad suggests. He walks to the kitchen and there’s no doubt that we’re supposed to join him.

I reluctantly follow, and the four of us sit in silence around the table for several minutes. I feel my fatigue hit me when I sit down. Today has been too much. I can only run on anger and adrenaline for so long. “We’re sure you have a lot of questions,” my mom says quietly. “It’s important to me that you know I didn’t want this to happen. Your father’s boss reached out to me about giving piano lessons to his son. It started off as a cup of coffee after a lesson, and we became friends. I never expected this to happen. The moment it got physical, I shut it down.”

I feel my heart drop to my stomach. Dad’s boss. She cheated on him with his boss. That’s somehow worse. “You slept with his boss?” Pilar asks furiously. “Is that why dad got a new job?”

“We felt a fresh start would be good for us,” our mom explains. “I made a mistake.”

“That’s more than a mistake,” I snap. “It was a choice you made to put that guy before dad and us. You don’t accidentally sleep with someone.”

“Victor,” my dad says sharply. “I wasn’t there for your mom when she needed a friend. This is as much my fault as it is hers.”

“Unless you bought her the fucking condoms, it’s not your fault,” I disagree. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s defending her. “I… I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I leave without waiting to see what they say. I must spend at least an hour in the shower, but nothing calms me down. I feel an overwhelming urge to punch something or get my anger out.

When I get out of the shower, I can hear my parents arguing in the kitchen. Pilar is sitting in the hallway. She looks like she’s been crying, but I can’t say I blame her. I quickly throw on pajama pants and a t-shirt, and I’m back out in the hallway with Pilar in time to hear our mom say, “if they don’t find out from you, then it’s going to be this all over again.”

“They shouldn’t have figured this out in the first place. How did this happen?” our dad asks.

“I already told you; I don’t know.” I can hear our dad’s frustration. He is apparently dissatisfied with our mom’s answer.

“Catch me up,” I whisper to Pilar.

“They’re talking about what happened tonight,” she answers. “Dad keeps asking mom how we found out. Apparently, dad did something in Texas too, but they haven’t said what it is yet.”

“Do you think he cheated too?” The idea is so horrifying, but I have to ask because it seemed impossible for my mom to cheat. Now that that’s happened, I think anything can be on the table.

Pilar shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Her shoulders slump. “Hey, it will be okay,” I tell her.

“Will it?” she asks sharply. “Mom had an affair. Dad did God knows what. We moved across the country to get away from his boss. Will we be okay?” I put my arm around her shoulder. I don’t answer her because I’m not actually sure. I don’t see how it’s possible that we’ll survive this with our family intact. “Why tonight? I thought you wanted proof.”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Mom got mad at me for missing curfew and it kind of came out.” I look up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry that you were right.”

“Me too.” She rests her head on my shoulder and we wait for one of our parents to break the silence.

“How long are you going to hold this over my head?” our mom asks. “I made a mistake; I’m sorry. But, Armando, you made a mistake too.”

“Yeah, my mistake was because of your mistake. Or did you forget that part?” our dad shoots back.

“It’s impossible to forget when you keep blaming me for it. You lost your temper. I didn’t do that for you.”

“You slept with my boss. What was I supposed to do? See that man every day and know that he did the things he did with you.” Our dad’s voice is filled with disgust. “I couldn’t look at him without picturing him with you. Do you know what that was like for me? To know that you broke our marriage vows for him?”

“How many times do I need to say I’m sorry? I told you about Roger, I didn’t complain when we had to move, but I will not apologize for your mistakes. You were not going to see him every day. Roger was going to make sure that you weren’t around when he had to visit sites, but instead, you had to go confront him. You took his peace offering…”

“His peace offering?” our dad interrupts. “Really? You call that a peace offering? If you ask me, he’s lucky that a black eye and a few bruises are all he walked away with.”

“He’s lucky? You’re lucky he didn’t press charges. You’re lucky he only fired you! You could have been arrested and then what?” Our mom shouts. I’m pretty sure we’d be able to hear them even if we were in our bedrooms.

I look at Pilar. It’s definitely better than our dad cheating on our mom and if I’m being honest, I’m not all that surprised.

“Then what?” He asks. “What would you do if I was out of the picture in jail somewhere? Would you be with him right now?”

“How can you ask me that?”

“Because I know you. I know you wouldn't have slept with him if you didn’t love him.”

“This again,” our mom snaps. I hear something that sounds like the chair scraping across the floor. “We have been through this. I don’t love Roger, not the way I love you.”

“Oh, you see. Now it’s changing. Before you said you didn’t love Roger, now it’s that you don’t love him like you love me. Which is it?” 

“I love you, Armando. You are the one I chose. When what happened with Roger happened, I didn’t start some affair behind your back. I ended things with Roger and told you. I. Chose. You.”

“Did you? Or did you choose easy?” I hear our dad sigh. “I don’t know how many times we can keep having this conversation.”

“Then stop having it. I broke this, but you’ve refused to let me fix it,” my mom argues. “There’s only so much I can do if you won’t -” my mom abruptly cuts off. She noticed us in the hallway for the first time.

For a brief moment, we’re in a standstill. No one really knows what to do or what to say.

I shake my head before I stand up and go to my room. Part of me feels like we should talk about this, but I am drained. Too much has happened today, and I feel like it’s all catching up with me. When I don’t hear further arguing, I figure Pilar must feel the same way.

I feel… empty when I wake up. I feel like yesterday was such an overwhelming day, and I can’t begin to unpack everything that happened, so I don’t try. 

I skip breakfast because I’m not ready to face my mom. For the first time ever, I’m waiting for Felix to come out for school instead of the other way around. I’m grateful when he wants to stop at Brasstown. Even though I slept last night, I still feel exhausted. I don’t think I’m easily going to recover from everything that happened yesterday. I still have trouble believing that so much stuff could fit into one night. How is it possible that it was only yesterday that I played basketball with Benji? How is it possible that in the same night, I came out to Mia and Felix? How is it possible that even after all of that, there was enough room for our parents to shatter our perfect little family?

My day is kind of a blur. I’m pleasantly surprised when Mia still sits with us at lunch. I know she told me she’d see me at lunch, but I wasn’t sure if she’d need some space before she was ready to really jump into being my friend. I get the vibe that she told Lake what happened, and I don’t really know how to feel about that.

At work, I find myself telling Benji what happened last night - not the bit with Mia or Felix but what happened with my parents. He seems to sense that I’m not really in the mood to talk because he doesn’t push me for more information. He also doesn’t bring up what happened on the basketball court yesterday and I can’t figure out if that’s a good or a bad thing. Silence seems like the safest option right now.

When I get home, I go straight to my room. Pilar stops by with a slice of pizza for me before she goes to her room. 

Then it’s Thursday. Mia and Lake are buzzing at lunch, and I don’t realize why until Lake flags down Benji. “We’re getting together a group to cheer for Victor at his game tomorrow. Are you in?”

I internally groan. First Simon and now them? Between everyone that is clearly trying to push me and Benji together, it’s going to be impossible to get over him. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely prefer their overzealous support over their disapproval.

“Oh, cool,” Benji says surprised. “I just have to check with Derek but that sounds like fun.” He doesn’t quite sound like he believes his words, and I’m not sure if it’s because of his disinterest in basketball or his disinterest in me.

“You guys don’t have to do this,” I say.

“We want to,” Mia assures me. “It’s your first basketball game here. We need to find out if you’re any good.”

“Yeah,” Lake agrees. “I need to know which title I’m using for my creeksecrets post. Texas Titan Strikes Out on the Field, or Hole in One: Salastar Leads Us to Victory.”

Benji snorts, and I’m really struggling not to laugh myself. “There is so much wrong with those. How about you just leave me out of the post?” I suggest.

“Not a chance.” Lake turns to Benji. “We’re meeting at the school at 6:30. Shirts are optional.” We all stare at Lake. “What? I know I’m not the only one that thinks Benji must look way better without a shirt on.”

“On that note,” I say, changing the subject. “The game against Whitman should be really good. They’re apparently our rivals.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re coming to cheer you on. It’s gonna be a big game,” Benji says.

“With shirts,” Felix adds. “I just want to make sure we’re really clear on that. Shirts are not optional.”

I have to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing because Felix’s jealousy is written all over his face.

“Are you nervous?” Mia asks. The conversation flows much smoother after that. At some point, Benji sits down and starts eating lunch with us as well. Benji leans over to whisper something to me. I have no idea what he says because I see Mia and Lake smirk at each other as they look at us. I internally groan and hope that they’re not planning anything.

I don’t have work after school, so I don’t see Benji again. When I get home, my mom is sitting on the couch making a poster. I freeze; back in Texas, I walked home to an identical scene before every game. Somehow, I hadn’t considered that she’d be there. I should’ve thought of it. She’s been to every game I’ve ever played, even when I was a little kid and playing rec basketball. “How was school?” she asks.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Making a poster for your game,” she says matter-of-factly. “I know it’s not my best pun, but I don’t think it’s too bad, right?”

Salazar is a Salastar. It’s not bad, but it still makes me feel like I’m going to be sick. “So, you’re still planning on going then?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss one of your games.”

I don’t have it in me to tell her that I don’t want her to be there. Instead, I spend the rest of the night in my bedroom trying to concentrate on homework.

By the time the game rolls around on Friday, I’m more nervous for my mom to be in the stands than I am for the actual game.

Mia and Lake are there crazy early. Like, before we even start warming up early. When we’re taking a break while the gym fills up, Mia waves me over. “You nervous?” she asks.

“A little,” I say with a shrug. “I’m just ready for this game to be over.”

Benji and Felix get to the gym. I shouldn’t be surprised when I see Felix is wearing face paint, but I am. “Well, as a little motivation to get through the game, we thought we’d invite everyone to an after party at Mia’s house,” Lake announces. “Everyone is expected to attend.” She winks at Benji.

Benji shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t confirm whether he’ll be there. Felix, Lake, and Mia mysteriously disappear, leaving me alone with Benji. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they planned it. I’m actually pretty sure they did. “Where’s Derek?” I ask.

“He didn’t want to come, so we’re doing our own things tonight,” Benji explains. He doesn’t look particularly happy about it. “On the bright side, that means I’m free for the… after party.”

“Victor,” Coach calls.

“One second,” I call back. “Is everything okay with you two?”

“Yeah, we’re okay,” he says. I don’t know if he’s telling the truth, so I raise my eyebrows at him. “Or we will be. We just need some time to figure things out. I know he’s not happy with me because I put my foot down tonight, but I needed to do it. He’ll get over it.”

“Victor Salazar!” Coach calls again. I can tell he’s getting angry.

“I should get going before my coach has a heart attack.”

“Wait.” He grabs my hand and doesn’t let go. I turn back to him and don’t try to pull away. I know it’s just a friendly gesture from him but it’s making my heart race like I’ve already played my basketball game. “Good luck.” I think that single gesture almost makes things okay. For a brief second, it makes me feel like I might just get through everything happening in my life right now.

“Thanks.” I run out onto the court and join the huddle.

I hear my mom before I see her, and I can feel anger ignite in me. All of the strength Benji briefly filled me with is gone. It’s something about how she’s here pretending we’re a happy, unbroken family when I know we’re the opposite. My playing is erratic and fueled by my frustration. The best I can say for myself is I manage not to get into a fight with anyone, which is a small miracle in itself. If my aggression wasn’t an asset on the court, I’m pretty sure I would have been benched.

When halftime hits, I tell Coach I need to go outside for some fresh air. He tells me I should come back with a “new attitude.”

Once I’m outside, I breathe in the cold air. I close my eyes and allow myself to focus on the cold instead of everything I’m feeling.

“Nice night.”

I spin around to see Benji. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugs. “It was either volunteer to come out here or be subjected to more of Lake’s weird-ass comments,” he explains. “I prefer you.”

I chuckle. “Fair enough.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” I pretend like I don’t know, but I’m not very convincing.

“Really? We’re gonna play that game?” he asks. “Okay, we won’t talk about how your playing like you’re trying to murder everyone in the game.”

I sigh. “My mom’s here,” I explain. “I know that shouldn’t make me mad, but… she cheated on my dad, and it’s like she’s trying to pretend she didn’t. Or like she doesn’t think we should be upset about it.”

“Pretend she’s not here. Block her out,” he suggests.

“It’s not that easy,” I argue.

“Why not?”

“Because I know she’s there,” I point out.

“Okay, then how about this. Every time you hear her, look at us, not at her. We’re not sitting anywhere near your mom, right?” He’s looking at me intently. I nod. “So, just keep looking at us. We don’t piss you off, right?”

I chuckle. “No, you guys definitely don’t,” I agree. “Okay, I’ll try it.”

I manage to get through the rest of the game. I’m not going to lie and say my anger is fully in check, but it’s better than it was the first two quarters. I think the moment we beat Whitman, all is forgiven by everyone on the team because we’re all a cheering mess.

Mia’s house is way more lowkey than I thought it would be. I was expecting something like the stoplight party, but it’s just the guys from the team and a few other people. Benji and I dip a little before midnight because we have to work tomorrow.

I feel like I’ve barely fallen asleep before my alarm is going off. I groan and roll over.

Helping Benji open Brasstown does nothing to wake me up. Fortunately, our morning rush appears pretty early and the adrenaline of having to manage so many orders keeps me somewhat lively.

“Cold brew?” he asks when our line dwindles.

“Please,” I answer. My eyes are shut and I don’t open them until he passes me my coffee. I take a sip of it and sigh happily. “Thanks.”

“I take it you didn’t get much sleep last night?” he guesses.

I nod. “We probably should have left at least an hour earlier,” I grumble.

Benji chuckles. “Probably,” he agrees. He’s looking at a mug intently. I’m surprised that he seems so awake.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Foam art. What do you think?” he asks. I look at his mug. It’s a blob. I don’t know what he’s trying to make, but it’s definitely a blob.

“That looks really great,” I lie.

“What do you think it is?”

I squint. “You,” I guess. His attempt at foam art does seem to have an awful lot of hair but that could just be part of the blob.

“It’s Derek.”

“Oh. Yeah, I see it now.”

Benji rolls his eyes. “You want to try?”

It turns out, we both suck at foam art, but it’s a lot of fun just to try. We pass hours of our shift this way.

Our last batch of foam art, I make a genuine attempt to make Benji, and he guesses it’s Mia. “Not even close.”

“How are things going with Mia anyway?”

“They’re fine. She’s a good friend.”

“It was nice of her to throw that party for you. She must really like you.”

I shrug. “We’ve talked. She might like me, but she knows we’re not going to happen,” I explain.

“Why not?” he asks.

“I had to be honest with her.” I chew on my lip a little. “I told her it wouldn’t be fair to her because I like someone else.”

“Oh? Anyone I know?” He’s studying me and for a moment, I think I might tell him. Part of me wants to just stop hiding.

“The thing is,” I start to say. Before I have the chance to finish, a throng of college students come in. There’s only twenty minutes left of our shift, but it takes us well over 30 minutes to finish making their stuff, and no one has come in to relieve us. “Who’s supposed to come in after us?” I ask.

“You have eyes. Look at the schedule,” he snaps.

I look at him surprised. What just happened? “Uh, yeah. Okay.” I disappear into the back. “Courtney’s closing today.”

That only seems to make him angrier. He snaps at me over the smallest things as we wait for Courtney to show up. She’s almost half-an-hour late. Once we’re outside of Brasstown, I ask, “are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” he grumbles.

“Are you sure? You seem…” he turns to glare at me. “Nevermind.”

My mind doesn’t leave Benji all night. I’m so sure I’ve done something wrong, but I can’t figure out what that something is. I don’t think I really had time to do anything wrong between when we talked and when he got mad. I play it over and over again, but I literally just made coffee. How could I have offended him with coffee? I try to remember if he asked me to do something that I forgot to do, but I can’t see him getting mad at me over that. I think he’d just tell me.

Simon finally answers me - he’s apparently been busy with his parents. I’m happy for him but also a little bitter. It doesn’t help that he doesn’t understand Benji’s strange mood any more than I do. His only guess is that Benji realizes I like him but doesn’t know how to talk to me about it. I really, really hope Simon’s wrong but the more I think about it, the more I think he’s right.

By the time work rolls around the next morning, I’m simultaneously looking forward to it and dreading it. I don’t know if Benji’s still mad at me, and it could be a miserable shift if he is.

When I get to work, I can’t figure out if he’s figured it out. I know he’s still mad because he doesn’t say good morning. Aside from telling me what to do to open, he doesn’t say a word.

I don’t try to push him. Instead, I focus on making orders and keeping the counter pristinely clean.

It’s not until after our lunchtime rush that Benji finally says something. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” He’s looking down at the counter and is wrapping his rag tightly around his hands. “I was in a bad mood, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

I’m relieved to hear that. I’m grateful that he hasn’t figured out that I like him because I don’t want to ruin our friendship. “It’s okay.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal.

“It’s really not though.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I didn’t have the smoothest coming out and sometimes, something happens that puts me right back in the place I was in a little over six months ago.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks nervous. “Do you remember those college kids yesterday?”

“Vaguely,” I admit. I knit my brow trying to recall how they could possibly be related to this, but I’m coming up short. I remember there had been about a dozen of them and they’d all ordered drinks and something to eat. “There was the one guy that changed his order like a hundred times.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “They were also talking about that party they were going to.” He sighs again. “They made this joke that the tall guy was their designated drunk driver. I… I’m probably taking it too seriously, but it got to me.”

“Why?” I ask curiously.

Benji bites his lip. I’ve never seen him look this uncomfortable before. “I was a mess before I came out. I knew I was gay, but I didn’t want to be gay, so I drank. A lot. It started off as a stolen beer from my dad a couple of nights in middle school but once I started high school? I started drinking every night… and I drank a lot. Well, one time… I got super wasted and decided I wanted Wendy’s real bad. So, I decided to go to the drive-thru and drove through… the Wendy’s.”

“Oh my God.” I don’t remember making the decision to speak. It’s like the words are an involuntary response.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Were you okay?”

“Physically, I was fine. I woke up in the hospital and was told how lucky I was that I hadn’t killed anyone and how lucky I was not to have killed myself. I realized that I could’ve died without ever having been myself,” he explains. “And if I had died, I would’ve died as the worst version of myself. So, I came out to my parents right then, my friends a few days later, and eventually everyone.”

“That’s intense,” I acknowledge.

He nods. “I’m so scared of being that person again,” he whispers. “And usually, I can see how far I’ve come, but then someone asks why my dad has a lock on the fridge in our garage where he keeps his alcohol or someone jokes about drunk driving, and it’s like I’m there again. I’m still that scared kid who avoided all of his problems and didn’t care who he hurt in the process.”

“But you’re not,” I remind him. I don’t know if I grab his hand or if he grabs mine, but I’m hyper aware that it happened. “Look, I didn’t know you six months ago, but I do know who you are now. You care so much about everyone around you, enough to play a sport you hate to distract me from my family drama. You are honest and kind and so patient. This thing happened and it sounds like it was scary and life changing. It doesn’t matter that it happened; what matters is what you did because it happened. It seems to me that you made the best of it. You used it to live your life the way you’re meant to. I think that’s something to be proud of.”

“Thanks,” he says softly. I pull my hand away before it can get too weird. “Uh, look, no one at school really knows about the accident. It happened over the summer, so really only Derek and my family know.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promise. “But thank you for telling me.”

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be to tell you,” He sounds surprised. “You’re really easy to talk to.”

I find myself smiling despite our serious conversation. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” He’s looking at me curiously.

“How did you come out to everyone?” I can’t quite look him in the eye in case he figures out why I’m asking him this.

“My band and I recorded a cover of  _ Born This Way _ and posted it to creeksecrets,” he explains. I look up at him surprised. “I included this long message about how I was born this way.” He smiles. 

“That sounds really great,” I say, forcing a smile on my face. Somehow, that’s not what I was picturing for him.

“And really cheesy?” he guesses. “At the time, I think I needed to do something big to reclaim myself. I felt like I’d lost control of my life. My parents and I were in a really bad place, I had a ton of legal fees to pay, and I was relearning who I was and figuring out who I want to be. This was the only thing that really gave me a purpose, you know? It was my apology to all the girls I’d dated and my coming out all in one. It’s also how Derek and I kind of announced that we were together.”

“What did Derek say when you told him about yesterday?” I ask curiously.

Benji looks down. “I didn’t tell him. It’s still a sensitive subject with him that I was essentially drunk the first six months we were together. He didn’t know, and I’ve never seen him as angry as he was when he came to see me after I got home from the hospital.”

“Huh,” I say quietly.

“What’s that look?”

“What look?” I ask evasively.

“Your scrunched up uncomfortable look,” he points out.

“I just think you should talk to Derek about this,” I tell him. “I think he’d want you to tell him.”

“You think?”

“He clearly loves you. I don’t think he’d want you to suffer in silence with this.” I shrug. 

“I’m not suffering in silence. I’ve got you.”

I have to turn away from him because I know I’m wearing my feelings on my sleeve. Hearing Benji say that he has me kind of makes me feel like my head is on backwards. Things like reason must still exist, but I have no idea where they’re hiding. 

I’ve never been more grateful to have someone come up to order coffee before. I’m really at risk of saying something stupid to Benji, so I welcome the distraction.

We stay in safe territory the rest of our shift. Sunday night, I sit down and watch a movie with my mom. I don’t think things will ever be the same with her but if she’s putting in the effort, I figure I should too.

Monday morning, I’m completely blindsided when my mom suggests throwing a birthday party for me. It’s not that I forgot my birthday was coming up; I put it on the back burner with everything else going on.

I initially try to avoid a birthday party, but then my dad drops the bombshell that my grandparents are coming in. Suddenly, I find myself agreeing to it. I know it’s going to be a disaster, but it’s better than my parents picking fights with each other. It’s only gotten worse since we found out.

I tell Lake, Mia, and Felix about it during lunch on Thursday and warn Lake that it’s a family party. I’m hoping that by waiting as long as I did, she doesn’t really have time to find too many people to come.

That doesn’t stop word from getting to Benji. He asks me about it during our shift. “Hey, Lake invited me to your birthday party. Derek and I are going to come if you’re cool with that,” he tells me.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” My words sound false and cheery to me.

“Is it?” He asks. He cocks his head and looks at me uncertainly.

“It really is. I’d love to have you guys,” I assure him. My heart is pounding though. I’m so sure that my grandparents and an out gay couple are going to be a disastrous combination.

“But?” he guesses.

I nod. “But, my grandparents are going to be there.”

“And?”

“And they’re… not the most accepting people,” I explain. “They’re very religious and even more conservative. You and Derek… they wouldn’t understand.” I can’t look at him. “I’m really sorry. I know that must sound really shitty, especially because you’ve been through it with coming out. If you’re not comfortable with that, I get it. You don’t have to come.”

He sighs. “It’s still really hard for me to be who I am and if you’re asking me to pretend we’re not together…”

“No, no, no,” I quickly interrupt. “I’m not asking you to pretend. I know how hard it was for you to come out; I would never ask you to start pretending again. I just wanted you to know that… it’s not going to be pretty. I don’t know how your parents took it, but my grandparents won’t take it well.”

“What do you think they’ll do?” he asks. I can’t make out the expression on his face.

“Honestly? Refuse to talk directly to you, talk about you in Spanish behind your back, and make snide comments to instigate you,” I tell him dejectedly. “My parents won’t stand up to them either. If you come, that’s what you’re walking into.”

“Will you stand up for us?” he asks quietly. 

I close my eyes. “If I do anything, it’s going to cause a big fight between my parents. I don’t know how much more fighting my family can take.”

“That’s nice, Victor. Good to know where you stand,” he says sarcastically.

“It’s not that. I…”

“Don’t. You don’t want to have to tell me to hide my relationship so instead, you’ve given me a choice between hiding or having to put up with your homophobic grandparents. You know that’s not really a choice. I’ve got some homework to work on,” he tells me.

“Benji,” I start to say.

“I don’t need to hear it.” His voice his hard as ice, and I reluctantly take out my Chemistry textbook

I don’t work on Friday, but I consider popping over to Brasstown just to talk to him. Sarah gave both of us the weekend off because of our double shift last week, but I know Benji is covering Courtney today, so he’ll be there with Sarah.

At the end of the day, I’m too cowardly to face him.

I’m not expecting him to show up after our fight at Brasstown, so I’m shocked when I open the door and see him there. “You came.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face

“I told you I’d be here,” he reminds me.

“Yeah, but after Thursday… I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t come.”

“About that, I’m sorry I overreacted.” 

“You didn’t overreact.”

He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have expected you to choose me over your family. I know what you all have been going through lately, and I get not wanting to add to that. We’re not going to tell anyone that we’re together.”

“Derek’s okay with that?” I ask surprised.

Benji frowns. “He’s not happy about it, but he’ll go along with it.”

“I’m really sorry. I wish you didn’t have to,” I tell him.

He nods but looks frustrated, so I don’t push him any further. Derek shows up and makes some joke about the fire hydrant. I’m not really listening because my abuelo is making his way over to us. “Who are your friends?” he asks.

“This is Benji and Derek,” I introduce.

It’s so much smoother than I thought it would be. I don’t realize I’m half holding my breath until people start to leave. We actually make it through the day. It should’ve been a disaster. 

I can’t tell if it’s obvious that Derek and Benji are together because I know they’re together so everything seems flirty. It has me on edge the entire time, but no one calls them out on it.

Then a crisis is narrowly averted when my mom butchers her tres leches cake. I will forever be in Lake’s and Felix’s debt for getting a replacement cake.

If that isn’t enough, my abuelos are constantly commenting about how Mia and I would make a beautiful couple. Constantly. Like, almost every breath has something to do with us, how beautiful our children would be, or how lucky I am to have her in my life. It’s incredibly awkward for both of us. God bless Mia for rolling with that.

The roughest part is when my abuelo Tito made a comment about Adrian never giving him grandchildren. I thought Derek was going to start a fight or something. I’ve never known someone to actually turn red with anger, but Derek managed it.

When Derek and Benji leave, I quickly follow them out to the hallway. Benji makes some kind of joke about a pumpkin, and I laugh because I think that’s what he wants me to do. I’m mostly focusing on the huge apology I owe him. “Thanks. For today,” I say. “For coming and, you know, putting up with all of that. I’m really sorry.”

Derek looks at me with a stony expression, and I’m pretty sure I’ve effectively ended up on his shit list. 

“It’s fine. I almost forgot.” Benji hands me a gold-wrapped gift that he pulls out of his drawstring bag. “For the birthday boy.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Derek says. “Happy birthday.” It sounds like it takes actual effort for him to get the words out. I really can’t blame him. I essentially pushed him back in the closet.

“Thanks. You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“We didn’t,” Derek tells me. “That’s from Benji.”

Benji looks at Derek with a disgruntled look on his face. “Why don’t you go start the car? I’ll be down in a minute.” Benji waits until Derek descends the stairs. “Sorry about him. He’s just…”

“Pissed. He has a right to be. I am really sorry.”

He sighs. “It was hard for him today, for both of us. I didn’t like having to pretend I’m not straight, but after I heard your grandpa’s comments about your brother? I get it; I get why you were scared.”

I nod. “I’m really glad you came anyway,” I tell him seriously.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks again,” I say, waving the gift he got me.

I go back inside in time for Lake and Mia to be saying their goodbyes. Felix leaves a few minutes later and the party is finally over.

At the earliest possible time, I retreat to my bedroom and open Benji’s gift. It’s a hand-drawn picture of me at the espresso machine. This must be his mystery drawing. I feel so flattered and a little emotional. He really must have spent a lot of time on it; it’s incredible. I think of how many times he worked on it during our shifts together. He put way more effort into it than I deserve. I leave the drawing on my desk and spend most of the night looking over at it; it fills me with warmth to know that Benji made it just for me.

Adrian asked me to make a wish tonight, but I didn’t have the heart to make it. I know my wish would only hurt Benji, and I have to be content with small gestures like this being the most that I can get from him. As I fall asleep, I do feel content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 coming soon!


	3. Green

**Chapter 3:** Green

The next week seems to pass in the blink of an eye. I’m on my new work schedule because I’m sixteen which means I’m working after school 4 days a week. It’s kind of a weird work week because I think Benji is still a little annoyed about my birthday party. We talk but not like we used to.

Since I have a basketball game on Wednesday, I’m working with Benji on Friday. It’s the first time I’ve worked a Friday night shift. It’s incredibly busy. It’s amazing to me how many people will get coffee so late on a Friday, but it seems like people are determined to last through the night. I feel like the first time I have a moment to breathe is when we’re closing.

“Hey, do you want to do something tonight?” Benji asks while we’re cleaning up.

"I'm surprised that you're not spending time with Derek. Isn’t your anniversary this weekend?" I’m actually pretty sure it’s today, but Benji only mentioned it in passing three weeks ago and I don’t know if I’m remembering it correctly. I feel that same pang of jealousy that I get every time we talk about Derek.

"Uh… we broke up," he says in this small, uncertain voice.

I think my brain breaks because it takes me an embarrassingly long time to understand his words. “Oh. I’m sorry.” I don’t sound like I mean it. “When did it happen?” I lean against the counter.

“Last Saturday,” he admits. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“You didn’t really have to tell me at all.” Though, I really wish he had. I wish he wanted to tell me things like this. “Was this because of my party?” I ask anxiously.

“No.” He’s not looking at me, so I don’t believe him.

“I’m so sorry. Look, I can talk to Derek if you want. Explain to him that you were just being a good friend and apologize that I ever told you to pretend. It’s really my fault and he shouldn’t break up with you because of something I did.”

“You didn’t tell me to pretend,” he reminds me gently.

“But I may as well have,” I point out. “You were right. I gave you a shitty choice.”

He shakes his head. “I’m serious; it wasn’t just your party. We realized we’re different people and we want different things from a relationship.”

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t look upset. Maybe it’s because he’s given himself a little time, but one week doesn’t seem like enough time to get over an almost one-year long relationship.

“I am. I… actually broke up with him.” Benji’s words are slow and intentional. I can practically feel that he’s watching my reaction, so I try my best to act normal and like my heart isn’t starting to hammer in my chest. I think I’m too afraid to hope, but his words are making it impossible to fully suppress that. He takes something to the sink in the back and I follow him.

“What happened?”

“You know we’ve been fighting a lot lately. I guess I just realized that it wasn’t fair for me to be with him when I like someone else.” I get butterflies in my stomach, and I try to push them aside. Focus. I need to focus. “I didn’t realize how different we are, but as we were arguing, I knew we both deserve better. He deserves someone that isn’t picking fights because they’re constantly comparing him to someone else. I deserve someone that doesn’t make me feel anxious all the time and who makes me feel like I can be myself and that’s enough; someone that makes me feel like I’m walking on water not drowning in it.” A small smile crosses his face, and my hope is running rampant right now.

He’s using my words.

He’s using my words, AND he broke up with Derek.

He’s using my words, and he broke up with Derek, AND he likes someone else.

Why can’t that someone be me? He’s never talked about any other guys. There’s always the possibility that I’m going to watch him fall in love with some new guy, but… what if it’s me? What if these last weeks have meant as much to him as they have to me?

“Anyone I know?” I ask, looking away from him.

“Yeah,” he answers quietly. There’s this tension between us that’s so thick I can practically see it. We stand like that for a minute, neither of us daring to move. He’s standing maybe a foot and a half away from me, but it seems like a big distance to bridge.

Can I actually do this? I’ve spent so much time and effort suppressing this part of me; is it possible for me to let go of that? Looking at Benji, I feel like it might be worth it.

I move slowly, giving him the chance to say no, turn away, express disgust, do anything that would show me that I’ve misunderstood. He doesn’t try to stop me. I hear drums and it takes me a minute to realize that it’s my heart. It beats faster and louder and faster and louder. I feel like I’ve been waiting weeks for this moment. When I bring my hand up to his cheek, his eyes flutter closed and for a split second, it feels like my heart stops before it resumes its loud pounding in my ears.

With how long it takes this moment to happen, I expect the kiss to be equally slow and pure. It’s not. His lips are eager and enthusiastic when I finally kiss him. It’s everything I’ve dreamt and so, so much more.

He’s holding me tight, but I don’t mind. I wonder if he feels the way I do - like there’s no possible way that he can hold me tight enough to contain everything I’m feeling.

I don’t think this kiss can ever last long enough to satisfy. I expect the kiss to extinguish the fire that’s been burning in me because how can I want something that I’m actually getting? But kissing him is like adding lighter fluid to the flames. I somehow want so much more. I want it to never stop; I want it to stop so we can kiss again; I want a million of these kisses, one after another; I want time to stand still so that we can live in this moment for the rest of our lives.

I’m aware of everything. His hand on my lower back, his other hand tugging on my hair in a way that is surprisingly enticing, his bangs brushing against my forehead, his nose pressing just slightly into my cheek, the surprising coolness of his ring pressing against the back of my neck, the sturdiness of the locker that I’m pretty sure is the only thing keeping me standing, how my hand can’t stay still as it moves through his hair, how absurdly soft his hair is - seriously, for how much product he must have in his hair at any given time, how is it possible that it’s this soft?

Beyond the physical stuff, how I feel with him is indescribable. Simon tried to explain it when I messaged him about Mia, but no words do this justice. No words can describe how the want and need for him only get stronger with every passing second, how I feel like I’m comfortable and terrified, spinning yet rooted to the spot, invincible and seconds away from melting.

He lets out a noise that sounds like a moan, and I feel like it reverberates through my entire being.

Too soon, he pulls back. For a moment, we stand there, frozen in this moment of time. His hand is still hooked around my ear, and my hand is still tangled in his hair. He has a wild look in his eyes.

I feel the abrupt loss of heat when he moves his hand. He leans back a little and a smile spreads across his face. I can hear the silence in my ears. It falls in waves. I’m not even sure if we’re breathing. I need to break the silence. “That was… wow.”

“Wow,” he agrees.

I bring my free hand up and run it through his hair. I think it’s okay to do this now and his cheeks instantly flush.

I see the question in his eyes; the question he will never ask out loud. Or maybe I just want to see the question there. Maybe I want an excuse to say it out loud. “Um… so, yeah. Obviously, I’m… like you, I guess. I mean, I’m… I’m gay.” A chill runs down my back. It’s the first time I’ve ever said it out loud. It’s the strangest feeling. I always thought those words would invoke terror, and in some ways they do, but I don’t feel scared of the words themselves anymore. I just kind of feel like, yeah, I am. I don’t know if it’s because Benji doesn’t make me afraid to be myself or if saying it out loud took away the power it had over me. Benji doesn’t look surprised; that’s not entirely unexpected after we just kissed like we did, but I still need to ask, “did you know?”

He moves his hand so it’s over mine. “When you told me that things weren’t going to work out with Mia because you like someone else, I hoped that I wasn’t reading too much into things, but no, I didn’t know for sure.”

“What now?” I ask. I let out a nervous chuckle. “What happens next?”

“What do you want to happen?” he asks.

I look at him. “I want to give us a shot,” I tell him seriously. “If you’re okay with that. I know that I’m a mess, and I’m not out to my parents, but I really like you.” I reach for his hand and hold it between us. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? Do you know what a relationship means?” he asks. “It means dates and people seeing us together and eventually coming out to your parents.”

“I’ll come out to them; I promise. I just need a little more time. As for the other stuff; I’m ready.”

Benji looks me deep in my eyes; I get the idea he’s trying to see through to my soul. “Okay,” he agrees.

Something dawns on me. “Are you ready?” I ask. “You just got out of a long relationship. Are you sure you’re ready to start something? This isn’t just about me.”

Benji sighs. “I think so,” he answers. “Look, I’m not going to pretend it will be easy. I’m going to need to take things slow, but I feel like I’m ready to be with you. If I’m being honest, I probably should have ended things with Derek a long time ago.”

“Why… never mind.”

“No, it’s okay. You want to know why I didn’t, right?” I can only nod. “I love Derek; I always will. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it seemed like it was as perfect as it could be.”

“What changed?”

“I met you. And suddenly, I knew what it was like to feel comfortable being myself. I didn’t have to worry about keeping something from you because of how you’ll react; I felt like I could talk to you about anything. And do you remember when we played basketball?” How could I ever forget? “It was such an easy day and it was surprisingly fun for such a horrible sport.” I grin. “It didn’t take effort; I remember thinking that I wanted that with Derek.”

“I’m glad,” I tell him. Then because I’m afraid he’ll think I’m glad that things were hard with Derek, I tack on, “that you feel like you can be yourself. I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else.”

He leans in and kisses me again. This one’s impossibly soft and sweet. It’s wild to me that I ever denied that these feelings existed because they’re so obvious to me right now.

Our kiss on Friday launches some of the most blissfully happy weeks of my life. There’s something really magical about Benji when he’s not holding back. It’s not just the kissing; we talk to each other differently now. I feel like I’m just starting to get to know him. He’s somehow so much more than he was before.

I don’t tell anyone that we’re together for three weeks. Benji eats lunch with us every day, and we’re not particularly subtle with our flirting, so I don’t really know why I bother to hide it. It’s hard to be subtle, and honestly, I’m impressed I manage to talk about anything other than Benji. I quickly tell them when I sit down for lunch one Friday before Benji gets to our table. They all pretend that they’re surprised, but Felix is the most obvious human being on this planet, so I know they knew. The moment Benji sits down, Felix is trying too hard to be normal and Lake won’t stop staring at us as if she expects us to start making out in the middle of the courtyard.

I think Benji is oblivious to it until I’m over at his house that night. “I take it you told Felix today,” he says while I’m mixing some pancake batter. Benji didn’t believe me when I told him I make really good pancakes, so I’m proving a point tonight. 

“Yeah, I told Mia and Lake too. Is that okay?” I ask him. I can’t get a read on his facial expressions, but I would have thought he’d be thrilled.

“More than okay,” he confirms. He kisses my cheek and wraps his arms around my waist. I can’t help myself as I lean back into his embrace. “I was just surprised. You told me yesterday that you wanted some more time to be just us before you told people.”

“It was too hard to keep this from them,” I admit. I fidget self-consciously. “I wasn’t expecting that but not being able to talk about something that makes me this happy? I couldn’t keep it up.” I can tell that he’s smiling from the way his cheek shifts against mine. “Now, if you’re trying to distract me so these pancakes turn out like shit, it’s not going to work.”

He chuckles, and I can feel it tremor through his chest. “It’s just… it’s really hard to be away from someone that makes me this happy,” he teases.

“Okay, you’re making fun of me. That’s fine,” I say. I know that he also means his words or else I’d be offended right now. “Just remember that.”

“Remember it?” he asks cluelessly. I scoop up a tiny bit of pancake batter and brush it on his cheek. 

Benji lets out a sound that’s somewhere between indignation and shock as he steps away from me. “You didn’t,” he says. He sounds genuinely surprised. “You’re going to regret that.”

I don’t react fast enough to duck out of the way of the blob of batter he scrapes off his cheek and throws at me. It hits me square in the middle of my forehead. I don’t know who’s more surprised that he actually hits me. Benji noticed the shock on my face and he’s nearly doubled over laughing. I grab the spoon I was using to mix the pancake batter. I fully underestimate how much batter would be on it because when I flick it towards him, it’s way more than I’m expecting; it’s way more than he’s expecting as well.

“It’s on,” he warns. I gave Benji far too much batter to throw back at me. The world seems to slow down and speed up at the same time. All I’m aware of is the wild laughter coming from both of us as we take turns throwing batter back and forth. It’s one of those effortless, ridiculous, carefree moments that make me feel so close to him. 

Benji has the advantage of knowing where everything in his kitchen is, so he’s able to grab a skillet from one of the cabinets, and he uses it like a shield. Not that it really helps because his reflexes are slow because he’s laughing so hard, so I still hit him far more than I’m blocked.

Just as I’m about to get more batter from the bowl, Benji hooks his arm around my waist and spins me towards him. He kisses me lightly and uses his hand to smear batter across my forehead. I chuckle as I do the same to his cheek and let my hand rest there. I let my eyes flutter closed as he kisses me. I don’t think a more perfect moment exists. His lips taste like pancake batter, but I can only register that in the very back of my head. Mostly, I feel safe and warm and like he is my person.

Someone clears their throat from the doorway to the kitchen, and I immediately take a step back from Benji. Benji’s mom is standing in the door. I’m not sure if she remembers me from the last time we met over breakfast, but this is the first time I’m meeting her as someone that’s dating her son. It seems much more high stakes than an awkwardly quiet breakfast. I think there may have been a better moment than after we’ve finished making a mess of her kitchen. 

Though, as I assess the damage, we really didn’t make that much of a mess. There’s a ton of batter on the floor which makes our sock prints from our food fight really obvious, but the counters don’t look nearly as messy as I thought they would and we almost entirely spared the cabinets. Really, the biggest casualty is the skillet Benji used to deflect some of my batter and then there’s us: our faces are covered and there are batter globs all over our shirts. I would laugh at how ridiculous we look, but I’m too sure that Benji’s mom must be pissed about the mess we made.

“Mom,” Benji says surprised. “I thought you were going out with dad tonight.” He’d assured me that Friday night meant date nights for his parents and that definitely seemed to be true the last couple of Fridays.

“Your father wasn’t feeling well, so we got our food to go. We didn’t realize you had company.”

“Oh, right. Mom, this is Victor Salazar. Victor, this is my mom.” Benji looks so flustered.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Campbell.” It would be a lot nicer if we were batter free and she’d known I was here, but I can’t change those things. “I’d shake your hand, but…” I hold up my batter-coated hands as a peace offering.

“It’s nice to see you, Victor.” I’m surprised when she looks at us and smiles. “Don’t let me interrupt your night. We’ll be upstairs.”

“Sorry,” Benji whispers once she steps out of the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll, uh, start the pancakes,” I tell him. I can’t quite look at him. What a shitty impression to make on his mom.

I don’t hear him come back, so I’m surprised when I hear him speak. “So, my mom loves you.”

“What?” I ask. I turn to him and have to bite back my laughter. I really did a number on him with the pancake batter. “How?”

“She said she was really happy to see me happy or something like that.” Benji shrugs but I can see that he’s really pleased about it.

I can’t help but smile. “I make you happy?” I pretend to be surprised.

“Who’s to say?” His eyes are practically twinkling and I swear, I’ve never felt closer to another person than I do to him in that moment. I don’t know if it’s the undeniable proof that I make him a fraction as happy as he makes me or the fact his mom doesn’t hate me or the simple fact that I don’t feel like I have to be anyone but myself with him. “She did also say that if I ever want to have you over again, these floors better be ‘clean enough to eat off of’ before you leave.”

“I think that’s fair,” I agree. I flip the pancakes on the griddle. From a recipe that usually makes nearly 20 decent sized pancakes, I only get 5. Benji starts cleaning the floor while the pancakes cook, and I work on the counters. The kitchen is remarkably cleaner by the time I make the last pancake.

When I finish making them, Benji puts towels down on the chairs so we won’t spread the mess. He grudgingly admits that my pancakes are “alright” which I know means he loves them.

We sit at his kitchen table for hours, talking and eating our pancakes and the actual food we inevitably have to make because we lost so much of our batter. I almost forget that I’m covered in dried pancake batter until I get home. “What happened to you?” my mom asks when I walk in.

“Oh,” I say surprised. “We decided to make pancakes and things got out of hand. I’m going to go shower.” She doesn’t know I was over at Benji’s. She thinks I was hanging out with a whole group of people, and I’m grateful when she doesn’t think it’s odd that we would have made pancakes.

The next morning, when I get to work, Sarah lets me know that disaster has struck - her words, not mine. The espresso machine needs to be repaired, and Benji manages to get Sarah to agree to let me go to Willacoochee with him. It’s a four hour ride because we hit traffic, so we don’t get there until after lunch. It’s the furthest I’ve driven since I got my license a few weeks ago, but I try not to let Benji see how nervous it makes me. It’s not until Wally tells us that he doesn’t know how long it will take to fix the espresso machine that I realize we have a chance here to spend some time together far, far away from anyone that knows us.

Wally disappears in the back to find something that he needs in order to work on the espresso machine. “Do you want to grab lunch while we wait?” I ask Benji hopefully. We’ve been on “dates” in the stay-at-home kind of way, but I’d love to actually go out with him. It feels much less high stakes to go out somewhere where no one knows us.

He’s distracted by something on his phone. “Yeah. I think I saw a McDonalds if you want to stop in there.” I realize that he is not picking up on what I’m asking.

“I was thinking maybe something a little nicer,” I suggest. Benji doesn’t have the chance to respond because Wally is back. I give Wally my phone number so he can call us if he finishes the espresso machine today.

Benji and I go to Sarah’s car, and I drive around Willacoochee looking for anything that resembles a diner. I spot a small diner next to a car repair shop and pull into a spot. I put the car in park. “What do you think about going on a date?” I ask. I’m looking at the sign instead of him because it makes me inexplicably nervous to be suggesting this.

“Wait, really?” Benji asks.

“Yeah. A real date.”

“I’d like that,” he says with a smile.

There’s a single middle-aged woman working; I think we interrupt her crossword puzzle or something because she tucks her pencil behind her ear before she tells us we can sit anywhere.

“Booth or table?” I ask.

“Uh… why don’t we do a booth?” he suggests.

“A booth it is.” I lead him to a booth in the back right corner. Every other inhabited table is on the left side of the diner, and something about the seclusion makes it feel safer. It’s everything I thought it would be and more.

I think we’re really subtle until our waitress gives us tater wedges “on the house”. She winks at us before she walks away. It’s kind of mind-blowing because I expect the old lady waitressing in a small diner in a small town to not be okay with us and inexplicably, she seems to be so on board with us that she just assumes we’re together. I can’t wrap my head around it. I don’t know if it’s a sign of progression or if we just happened to meet someone particularly accepting.

After lunch, we end up walking around for about an hour and then we kill a few hours in a thrift store. I’m really impressed we don’t get kicked out as we try on some hilariously antiquated suits. I will forever have a mental image of Benji playing a tennis racket like it’s a guitar in a mustard yellow suit.

We’re at the thrift store until Sarah frantically calls Benji. I can only make out a few words on his end of the call, but as he encourages Sarah to do a headspace, I deduce that she’s overreacting. 

“Okay, so obviously that was Sarah,” Benji says. “She wants us to stay in a motel tonight if the espresso machine isn’t done so we can bring it back first thing in the morning.”

“We would spend the night?” I ask. I kind of sound like I’m choking on the words, but all I can think about is Benji and I sharing a motel room. And one of the beds that would be in that motel room. And all of the things I’m not ready to do on that bed in that motel room.

“Yeah. Is something wrong?” he asks. I can feel his gaze on me, but I don’t know how to answer him. 

“I, uh…” it’s all I can get out. My brain is stuck on one of the beds in our hypothetical motel room. I stare too intently at the gorilla shaped lamp in front of me in the hopes it will distract me. It doesn’t. “Hmmm.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna need words from you. Why are you acting so weird? All I said was we’d have to spend the night.” I know the exact moment he figures it out because he says, “oh.” That single word seems to sit between us.

“I just don’t think I’m ready,” I explain.

Benji hangs up the last suit he tried on. “Let’s talk about this outside,” he suggests.

I follow him out and we walk back to Sarah’s car. I don’t turn it on even once we’re both inside. “I’m not expecting anything. I hope you know that,” he says quietly. “If we do spend the night, that doesn’t mean we’re going to sleep together. Well, I hope we will sleep together, but it doesn’t mean we’ll have sex. We won’t do anything until you’re absolutely sure that you want to. I’m in no rush. I like where we are now; I like talking and kissing and just spending time with you. Do I want to eventually do more than this? Yes, but that can wait.”

I let out a sigh of relief; I don’t know why I got so in my head about it. I know Benji would never pressure me to do something I’m not ready for. When I look over at him, he’s staring out his window with his eyes closed. I reach out and run my hand through his hair. It’s still amazing to me that I don’t have to bury things like this anymore. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but thank you.” I turn on the car. “Where to?”

We end up driving around for an hour. There’s not a ton happening in Willacoochee, so we branch out and explore some of the neighboring towns.

We probably should have checked in with Wally, but when we don’t hear from him by 6, we assume we’re going to need to spend the night. Benji orders pizza while I check us in. When we get to our room, we both kind of stand in the doorway for a minute. There’s only one bed in the room. I hadn’t thought to ask for a room with two beds; I’d just assumed that's what we’d get. I kick off my shoes and try not to think about it. “How long did they say for the pizza?”

“Thirty minutes. They’ll call me when they get here.”

“Do you want to watch TV while we wait?”

We both sit on the bed and I turn on the TV. It turns out our TV has 2 channels, neither of them in English. I think the one channel is in Russian or something like that because neither of us can figure out what they’re saying. We pass the time by filling in fake dialogue for the characters. I almost wish we had more time before the pizza got here because I’m having so much fun with this. Benji is really good at coming up with the most perfectly hilarious or cheesy thing for a character to say, and it’s one of those carefree silly moments that make me feel like my life is as close to perfect as it can possibly be.

But Benji’s phone rings, and he has to go get the pizza, so the simplicity and magic of the moment is gone. He comes back and the smell of melted cheese fills our motel room.

We manage to eat the entire pizza between the two of us. I suggest more TV, but we never even get the TV on again. I don’t know how it starts. I don’t know if he starts the kiss or if I do; I just know suddenly we’re kissing like it’s how we breathe. His hands trace my stomach and start to push up my shirt; I pull back just slightly. “No sex?” I confirm breathlessly.

“No sex,” he promises. And then we’re back and I’ve got his shirt off and he’s got mine. I don’t know where he throws them, but they’re definitely not on the bed.

  1. Didn’t. Know. Oh my God. I didn’t know how good this would feel. I’ve kissed Benji before, but not like this. There’s a deeper intensity to our kiss. It’s not a stolen kiss while we’re cleaning up at Brasstown or a quiet kiss so his parents won’t hear us. Somehow, knowing that no one’s going to walk in on us makes it different.



We have to take a break, and he rests his forehead against mine. I can see that his eyes are still closed. “What are you thinking about?” he asks quietly in between deep breaths.

I’m not going to tell him the truth, which is that I’m thinking about my parents. More specifically, I’m thinking about how I have to come out to them. I think I’m really falling in love with Benji and when I do finish falling, I want to be able to love him the way he deserves. I can’t do that if I haven’t faced my parents. Instead of telling him that, I tell him a half truth. “You.”

And then he’s kissing me again and all thoughts of my parents are gone because, really, it’s impossible to focus on anything except for Benji.

When I wake up, I’m in Benji’s arms. I don’t try to move because I don’t want to wake him up. Flashes of last night keep coming back to me. I think we should always kiss like that. It should be a rule.

I don’t know what time it is, but our room is dark, so either it’s early or our room has surprisingly effective black-out curtains. From where I’m lying, I can’t see the alarm clock in our room. A few minutes after I wake up, my phone starts to ring, which wakes up Benji.

It’s Wally letting us know the espresso machine is done. Benji pulls a pillow over his head and groans. “Who invented mornings?” He really is not a morning person. I pull the pillow away from him and I can see how the corners of his mouth turn down. “You’re the worst kind of person, you know that?” He grumbles.

I do my best not to laugh, but it’s so hard. Benji has always seemed so mature to me; it’s kind of nice to know he’s not this perfect person. I feel a surprising urge to make his frown disappear and I realize I can do that; I don’t have to hold back. It takes a single kiss to his cheek for his eyes to fly open and a short kiss to lure him out of bed. He’s tired and grumpy when we’re driving back, but at least we’re on the road, so I’ll take it.

We’re back in Atlanta a little over three hours later. We’ve just dropped off the espresso machine and Sarah’s car keys when my mom calls me to let me know they’re running errands with Adrian. “Hey, um, do you want to come over?” I ask him quietly.

“I would but why do you look like you’ve swallowed a lemon?” he questions.

“I have to tell my parents,” I explain. “They’re not home right now, but they will be later. They’re going to make something that feels so perfect really messy, and I want a little more time with you before that happens. Even if it’s just a few hours.”

“You’re telling your parents today?” he asks. “Why?”

I bite my lip and look away from him. I can’t tell him this if I have to look at him. “You are amazing, Benji. And you deserve someone that can be all in with you. I want to be able to go on dates with you. I don’t want to have to lie to my parents every time I hang out with you. I don’t want to feel like I have to hold part of myself back from you because I’m so used to hiding that part from my parents. I didn’t have to hide yesterday and that’s what I want for us now.” Benji is trying very hard not to aggressively smile right now, but he’s failing. Despite how happy he looks, I feel my nerves bundling in my chest. “It’s going to be bad. Really bad. I don’t think they’ll kick me out or anything.” I really  _ hope _ they won’t. “But they’re not going to be okay with this.”

“Are you sure you want to tell them today?” he asks. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I’m sure. It’s as much for me as it is for you,” I assure him. “Plus, now we get to make out in my bedroom. And we haven’t had breakfast yet; we always have stuff to make pancakes at home.”

“Your pancakes were pretty good,” he grudgingly admits.

I chuckle. “I’m ready for this,” I tell him. “I promise.”

“Okay,” he agrees. As we walk, Benji doesn’t try to hold my hand, and I’m simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Part of me wants to blame Atlanta, but I don’t think I’d be super comfortable with it even if we lived in the most liberal town in the country. I think there’s so much of myself I’m still learning to get used to.

When we get to my apartment, I’m surprised to see Pilar. In retrospect, I should’ve realized she’d be home. My parents probably would have had to pay her to run errands with them. “Oh, Pilar, hi,” I say slowly. This complicates things. 

Pilar glances up at me and then back to her phone. “Hi.”

“I was gonna make pancakes for me and Benji. Do you want some?” I ask.

She looks up surprised. I think she’s noticing Benji for the first time. “Can I get mine with banana?” she asks.

I nod. “Coming right up,” I promise her.

I practically pull Benji along to the kitchen. I’m suddenly wishing there was a solid wall between the living room and the kitchen. I keep peeking over at Pilar and every time, she’s openly staring at us. I don’t know if I’m being really obvious or just really suspicious. As I’m flipping the pancakes, I make up my mind. “I’m going to tell her,” I whisper to Benji. “Over breakfast.”

“I figured,” he admits.

“Can you grab some plates out of that cabinet?” I point and he grabs four plates. “Plain or banana?”

“I’ll take plain.” He hands me one of the plates and our hands overlap for just a second.

I start stacking pancakes on the plate, doing my best to keep banana separate from plain.

I put some plain pancakes on Benji’s plate before I pass it to him, a few banana on a plate for Pilar, and one of each on my plate.

“It’s ready,” I call.

Pilar doesn’t start eating when she sits down; she just keeps staring at me. “Does anyone want anything to drink?” I ask. Silence. “Right. Uh, so. Yeah.” What is even happening? Where are all the words I know? I take a shaky breath and under the table, Benji squeezes my knee. “Pilar? Benji is my…” I cut myself off because I don’t know what he is. Is he my boyfriend? We haven’t talked about it yet. “We’re together. Like, romantically. I’m, uh… I’m gay.”

“Okay,” Pilar says quietly. I look up at her and wait to get some kind of reaction. “Are you going to tell mom and dad?”

“Yeah. Once they get home.”

“Vic, I love you, and I’m cool with this, but mom and dad? This apartment is going to be ground zero for homophobia the moment you tell them. And with everything that’s been happening with them?”

I look down. “I know.” Benji looks back and forth between us with a frown on his face. “I know it’s not the best time, but is there a perfect time? Mom will never have not slept with dad’s boss; dad will never have not beat up his boss; we can’t undo that we moved here because of both of them; who the hell knows if mom and dad will ever work through their shit? There’s always going to be something that makes this the wrong time. I… I have to do this now, or I’m just going to keep making excuses.” I glance over at Benji. 

“Okay. I got your back,” Pilar promises. 

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

We eat in silence after that, and then Benji and I retreat to my bedroom. I feel like my fear is sitting on my chest. It grows and grows every time I think about it.

Benji, apparently, doesn’t know what to say to me so instead, he kisses me. There’s a kind of nervous tension behind the kiss. We sit down on my floor once we break the kiss, and Benji wraps his arms around me. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you,” he tells me quietly.

“I know.” He tightens his grip on me, and I close my eyes. I don’t know how long we sit like that. Definitely long enough that we should have gotten uncomfortable… and it did if I’m being honest, but neither of us wants to break this moment so we take discomfort over distance. This is our last beautifully perfect moment free of complications. While we sit there, we talk. We talk about so much and yet nothing at all. It’s kind of like our whispers exist to pass the time. Benji doesn’t let me go until Pilar knocks on the door to let me know our parents are home. 

I reluctantly stand up and hold out my hand to help him up. “Do you want me to wait in here?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No. That’s okay.” I kiss him quickly. “I’ll call you later.”

“Or just come over,” he tells me. “If it goes badly, just come over. You know I have a really comfy couch and an even comfier bed.”

I nod and kiss him one last time before I open my door. My parents are in the kitchen unloading a bunch of groceries. Adrian must be in his bedroom because he’s nowhere to be found.

“Mom, dad, can I talk to you a minute?” I ask.

Benji brushes against my arm before he leaves. It’s hard to believe that once upon a time a goodbye without a hug and a kiss was normal for us. It took me no time to get used to our new normal, and it feels strange for him to just leave.

“What’s up, amore?” my mom asks.

Pilar comes to stand by my side which actually makes me feel a lot better. “I need to tell you something.” I cough to clear my throat. “I, um…” I can feel my parents staring at me. How do people do this? “I’m gay.”

I hear a thump and realize my mom has dropped the bag of tomatoes she’s holding. “I don’t understand,” she says. She almost looks pale.

“I like guys.”

“Come on. What about that girl? What was her name?” my mom asks. She’s snapping her fingers at my dad.

“Mia,” he provides.

I let out a shuttery breath. “I’ve been questioning some things for a while. Since middle school, really,” I start to explain. “I thought I could like Mia, but the way I feel with her is nothing compared to -” My mom’s eyes feel with tears, and I feel like my world starts to move in slow motion. My words get stuck in the heat spreading through my chest.

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right girl yet,” my dad suggests.

I shake my head. “I’m not going to meet the right girl. She doesn’t exist for me.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” my mom abruptly cuts me off. She, unsurprisingly, sounds angry. “What did you think was gonna happen when you told us this?”

Something about that makes me inexplicably angry. “I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I needed to tell you.”

“No, you really didn’t,” my mom says. “We’re not going to keep talking about this.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I need to say something. I’m sorry that this isn’t what you were expecting, and I’m even sorry for how much I know it’s upsetting you, but I’m not sorry for who I am. I have a boyfriend, and I’m really happy with him. When I’m with him, I feel like I get to be me.” I take a deep breath. “I just needed you to know that. I’m happy with Benji. Really happy.”

My parents are blank slates. I look at Pilar desperately. She’s looking at our parents. “What is wrong with you? You’ll cheat on dad, but this is where you draw the line? And you? You’re okay with beating the shit out of your boss, but not this?”

“We are not talking about that either,” my mom seethes.

“Why not? You clearly didn’t think there was anything wrong with sleeping with another man,” Pilar points out. “You had a choice. Victor doesn’t.”

“This is different,” my mom starts.

My dad puts his hand on her shoulder, and she abruptly cuts off. He closes his eyes. “We hear you, okay?” he says. “We heard what you had to say.” He looks at me for the first time since I spoke the words. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Mando.”

“Are you sure? Do you really understand what you are saying?” he repeats. “This boy” - he says it like it’s a curse - “will never be able to meet your grandparents.” I don't bother telling him that technically Benji has met them already. “He’ll never be able to attend a family party.” He looks at my mom. “I don’t know if we’ll ever be comfortable having him over here. Is it worth it?”

I look at the floor and really have to consider his question; not because I need to figure out my answer but because I need to figure out how to explain it. “Yes,” I answer. “When I’m with Benji, I feel like I’m enough. He’s easy to talk to and I can tell him anything. Isn’t that what you want for me? For me to spend my time with someone that I feel safe with? With someone that I love?”

My mom wipes away her tears, and I don’t know if they’re good tears or bad tears. “I think I need to take a shower,” she whispers. She practically runs to her bedroom.

“Pop?” I ask.

“Vic, we need time. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but…” he shakes his head. “I want to be the dad that tells you I love you and that’s more important than anything but that’s not how I feel about this. I’m sorry.”

He walks away, and I feel empty. I don't really know what to do with that. “Are you okay?” Pilar asks. I can only shake my head. “Did you mean it?”

I look at her cluelessly. “Mean what?”

“That you love him.”

I sigh. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “Maybe.”

“For the record, I see it.” I’ve never seen Pilar like this before. I mean, she’s smiling. Really smiling. It’s not a reluctant smile despite her attempts to remain surly. It’s a real smile. The last time I got a real smile from her was in Texas.

“See what?”

“I see how happy he makes you. It’s nice, you know. To see you actually happy and not just happy because you think it’s how everyone wants you to act.”

I don’t know what to say to that. “Um… thanks?”

Pilar rolls her eyes, then hugs me. It’s the first time we’ve hugged in a long time. “Go see him. I know you want to,” she tells me. “Oh, and Vic? Maybe take a shower. You reek.”

I can’t help but chuckle. She’s probably right. I go to my bedroom and check my phone.  _ I’m still outside.  _

I practically run out. “What are you still doing here?” I ask.

“Pilar said your house was about to be ground zero for homophobia.” He shrugs. “I just wanted to be here for you. How’d it go?”

I shrug. “Not great.”

“Do you want to come over?” he asks.

“I really can’t. I have to shower and do homework,” I start to list.

“Do it at my house,” he suggests. “If you’re really okay, that’s great, but if you want to get out for a bit or for a night…”

“I would like to get out. Are you sure your parents won’t mind?” I ask.

“My mom likes you,” he points out.

“And your dad?”

“My mom really likes you,” he repeats. I sigh. “It’ll be fine. I promise.” He holds up his hand. “To avoiding your problems for one night?”

I can’t help but smile as I bring my hand to his. “To avoiding my problems,” I confirm. “Just give me a minute. I have to pack up my school bag.” I hesitate for a minute. “Are you okay with waiting out here? I’d ask you to come in, but…”

“I’m fine. I’ll be right here.”

I pack faster than I ever have in my life and within a few minutes, I’m back outside with Benji. Spending two nights in a row with Benji should probably feel like we’re moving too fast, but I kind of love it. There’s something really special about falling asleep next to him and knowing that he’s going to be the first person I see in the morning.

Though, I don’t know that either of us actually get much sleep. We spend most of the night talking. There’s something about the dark that makes it so much easier to talk about some things - my fears with my parents, what happened after his DUI, regrets from when we were in the closet. I feel like something shifts between us as we talk. There’s a new vulnerability to our relationship.

When Benji’s alarm goes off the next morning, I feel like I’ve just fallen asleep. His alarm is still  _ Umbrella _ and it's a lot less enjoyable when I’m being pulled from the sleep I desperately crave.

Benji stirs and groans. “Good morning,” I whisper.

His eyes remain closed. “There’s no such thing.” He pauses for a second. “But good morning anyway.” We lie like that for a minute before he says, “I guess we should get ready for school.”

And still, we don’t move. So, we end up being late to school. Not terribly late, just late enough to miss a tiny amount of 1st period.

I practically run to Brasstown after school because I want to get there before Benji. After yesterday, I want to do something to say thank you.

I know before I even start that it’s going to be a disaster, but I try anyway. I attempt to draw Benji in foam art, but I think it ends up looking like some bananas on top of an almost circular blob. I’m hoping it’s close enough that he’ll figure it out. 

Once I have that made, I position the cup so his name is facing out and stick the small note I wrote during English class under it. We haven’t told Sarah that we’re together yet, and I’m hoping this doesn’t make it too obvious; this could very well be a friendship coffee. We don’t know how Sarah might feel about us working together if she finds out we’re dating, and we’re hoping to put off that conversation as long as possible. We figure as long as we’re not slacking with work, she really doesn’t need to know.

Because I’m starting to get some looks from Sarah, I grab a rag and start cleaning off the tables that aren’t being used. I know when Benji gets here because I can hear Sarah giving him a list of things to do during our shift.

I wait until she leaves to go behind the counter. “Hey,” I call.

I hear a locker shut, and Benji comes back out. He looks at the coffee on the counter. “Is this for me?”

“It does have your name on it. I wonder who left that for you.” I have to laugh at myself because I’m the opposite of subtle.

“It’s a mystery,” he says with an eye roll. He looks at the cup and snorts. “What is this supposed to be?”

It’s definitely settled a little, but I don’t know that it would have been recognizable even before it spread. “It kinda looks like you.”

Benji is biting his lip to keep from openly laughing at me. “Well, thank you,” he says. He takes a sip of his coffee, effectively ruining my foam art. I see him pocket the note before he disappears into the back with his coffee to get started on whatever Sarah wanted him to do. 

I end up doing some homework because it’s a slow day and there’s nothing else to do until Benji finishes his list from Sarah. Someone clears their throat while I’m finishing my history outline and my heart drops to my stomach when I see Derek. “Is Benji here?” he asks.

I don’t know if he knows about us and I can’t fully find my voice, so I just nod. I clear my throat. “I’ll go get him.” I don’t know if I’m actually audible or if I just look like I’m running away from him. For a minute, I forget why I came to the back because Benji has taken off his Brasstown shirt and is only wearing a white, tight-fitting tank-top. He’s carrying a huge burlap sack which is making his muscles bulge. It’s not until he puts down the bag that I’m able to regain reason. “Uh, Benji? Derek’s here.”

Benji looks surprised. “Oh.” He looks around, locates his t-shirt, and pulls it on. “I didn’t know he was coming. I’m going to take my break now, if you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, of course.” I don’t know if he actually looks excited to see Derek or if I’m reading too much into it. I don’t take my eyes off of them the entire time they’re sitting at one of the small tables in the middle of Brasstown. I have to convince myself it’s a good sign that they’re not tucked away in the corner. At one point, Benji looks over at me, and I have to pretend that I’m not openly staring at them.

Benji ends up taking nearly a 45 minute break. I would love to know what they’re talking about, but I also know it’s none of my business. I know this, but I don’t like it. Even when I’m making coffee, one eye is constantly on them.

I’m relieved when Derek finally leaves, though, I feel my heart pounding when they hug. Benji comes back and I can see him hesitate behind the counter. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize how long we were talking.”

“It’s fine,” I say abruptly. I don’t really want to think about it, much less talk about it.

“Victor,” he starts to say.

“Don’t you need to clean?” I ask harshly. Part of me knows I’m overreacting, but I’ve never quite felt like this before. This irrational anger that fills me is nearly overwhelming. I know it doesn’t make sense but that in no way helps me suppress it.

“We’ll talk during closing, okay?” he asks. “I have to finish cleaning the storage shelves and then you can take your break.”

I nod. “Okay.” I can’t shake this heavy feeling like something is about to go terribly wrong.

It doesn’t leave me as I walk around during my break or when we’re silently doing homework once I get back. With every second of silence and every cup of coffee poured, it only gets stronger. When it’s finally time to close, I clean the same spot on the counter for twenty minutes before Benji takes the rag from my hand and leads me to the couch.

“I’m sorry about that. If I’d known he was planning on coming, I would have given you a heads up.”

I’m not looking at him when I say, “it’s fine. You can talk to whoever you want.”

He puts his finger under my chin and lifts so I have no choice but to look at him. “Are you jealous?”

Yes, obviously, but he clearly knows that. And he’s sitting there with his stupid smiling looking really pleased with himself. Like my jealousy is an accomplishment. I actually don’t know if he looks like that or if I’m just mad. “No,” I grumble.

To Benji’s credit, he doesn’t laugh at me. “Derek and I were together almost a year,” he says quietly. “I wish I could say that I broke up with him and never thought about him again but that’s not what happened. I fell out of love with him when I fell in love with you, but we still needed closure; we deserved closure. That’s what I got today. Derek was such a big part of my life for years. We went through so much together. He was my first boyfriend and for a long time, he was the only one that knew I was gay. We needed to talk, so we talked about what happened between us and had the chance to apologize. That’s it; I promise.”

I know he spoke a bunch of words, but I’m not able to recall anything he said after,  _ I fell in love with you _ . In love. He fell in love with me. I think he’s still speaking words because I can see his lips moving but his earlier words are too loud in my ears for me to hear anything.  _ I fell in love with you _ . I didn’t think anything could stop my jealousy, but those words do it. I don’t have room for jealousy. I don’t know if I’m ready to say it back, but hearing those words and knowing that they’re directed towards me? It’s unlike anything.

For a second, I don’t care if we’re on a couch that someone could see from outside. Brasstown I don’t care if the whole world can see us. I cut off his words with a kiss.

I think he’s surprised and confused at first; I don’t even know if he realizes what he said. After a couple of seconds, he starts to kiss back. My hand instinctively comes up to hold his hand to my cheek.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. “I want to make sure I do it again.”

I chuckle. “About Derek. I get that you had to talk to him, and I’m sorry if I overreacted,” I tell him.

“Why did you?” he asks curiously.

“You were with Derek for a long time. You love him… or loved him, whatever you want to call it. You have this whole history with him, and I guess I just got scared that you’d think you made a mistake breaking up with him. Like, maybe you can feel something with him that you don’t feel with me,” I explain. “I don’t want to think things like that; I don’t want to be the kind of boyfriend that gets crazy and jealous every time you talk to another guy…” Benji squeezes my hand, and I cut myself off.

“Victor, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. Starting a relationship with Derek before I’d fully come to terms with being gay, trying not to be gay, drinking to avoid my problems, nearly killing myself at a Wendys drive-thru. Those were mistakes. But breaking up with Derek? Starting this thing with you? Becoming your boyfriend?” I see the smile on his face as he says boyfriend. I don’t realize until that moment that I’d unintentionally called myself his boyfriend, but I’m guessing he’s okay with that. “Those weren’t mistakes. You aren’t a mistake.”

I smile and look down just slightly. I think I might actually explode with happiness if I have to meet his eye. I don’t know that it fully extinguishes the insecurity about his relationship with Derek, but I feel a lot better about it. “I’m glad we talked about this,” I said quietly. “I feel the same way. I think I was meant to meet you, like it was my destiny… too cheesy?”

“Just the right amount of cheesy,” he assures me. “Come on.” He stands up and holds out his hand for me. “We’ve got to clean up, and you’ve gotta get home.”

I really don’t want to go home, but I know he’s right. I have to go home. Neither of my parents acknowledged my text that I wasn’t going to be home last night, so I have no idea what I’m going to be walking into.

It doesn’t take us too long to clean up. When I get home, there’s a plate in the oven for me, but my parents are already hiding out in their bedrooms. Are they just going to avoid me? Part of me hopes for that but part of me also fears that not talking about it will only make it worse when we have to talk about it.

I don’t have a chance to talk to my parents until Friday. It kind of happens by accident. I’m not supposed to be home until later that night, but I forgot my wallet when I left for school this morning, so I stop home to grab it. I expect my dad to be working and my mom to be picking up Adrian from school (we specifically time it this way), so Benji comes in with me. We both stop dead when I see my parents sitting at our kitchen table. They look like they’ve been fighting.

“Papi, what are you doing home?” I ask quietly. I’m suddenly painfully aware of Benji’s hand in mine, but I don’t drop it. I can’t. I realize that I need to introduce them, even if they’ve technically already met him and even if they’re not ready for this. Ready or not, they’re all together now, so it’s kind of unavoidable.

“Adrian got sick during school today,” he answers. “They couldn’t get in touch with your mother, so I had to leave work early to get him.” They’ve definitely been fighting. His voice sounds furious and my mom has an equally frustrated look on her face.

“I didn’t know you’d be home, but since you are…” I’m sure there’s a better way to do this, but I don’t know what it is, so I just say, “mom, dad, do you remember Benji? He was at my birthday party. He’s my boyfriend,”

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Salazar,” Benji says with an uncomfortable half wave.

My parents glance at each other. My mom sighs. “Hello, Benji.”

I stare. It’s such a small thing, but it’s so much more than I’m expecting. It’s not pure anger, and she’s not refusing to acknowledge his existence. I don’t know if her hospitality instincts kicked in and are preventing her from being rude to someone that’s essentially a guest in her house or if she’s actually coming around to me, but I’m grateful for it.

My parents are apparently out of words to say. “We’re going into Midtown tonight,” I tell them to fill the silence. “I just stopped home to grab my wallet.”

My dad nods. “Have fun.” Whoa. Whoa. It’s all I’m capable of thinking. Sure, his voice is hard and angry, but he still told us to have fun. 

I grab my wallet and when we get outside, Benji asks, “are you okay?”

“Are you kidding? My mom said hi to you and my dad told us to have fun. That’s the most we’ve talked since I came out to them, and I’d say they were civil,” I tell him. I feel a giddy happiness fill me. It’s not even because that tiny, insignificant conversation with my parents was positive; it just gave me reason to hope that maybe they’ll come around to it. “I’m great.”

He looks surprised. “Oh, good.”

“Trust me. That might not seem like much, but compared to Sunday? It’s major. It’s more than I ever thought I’d get from them.”

Felix is waiting for us outside. Mia and Lake are sitting on the half-wall. “Are we waiting for anyone else?” I ask.

“I don’t think so,” Lake says. She doesn’t look happy about it. I know she wanted to invite Andrew, so I’m guessing he turned her down. “Did we decide we’re taking the bus, or should I order a Lyft?”

“We’d need to order a Lyft XL,” Mia points out. “The last time we did that, we had to wait 45 minutes for our ride. We might as well take the bus and be in Midtown in ten minutes.”

Lake doesn't think very highly of taking the bus, but she’s outnumbered. The bus is ridiculously crowded. It’s strange to me that Lake has lived in Atlanta her entire life and this is only her second time riding a bus that wasn’t taking her to school. She mumbles something about her mom when Felix teases her about it.

Midtown is so much fun. There’s this art exhibit that Mia wanted to go to - it’s the whole reason we’re adventuring into Midtown. It’s not bad, but it’s not really my cup of tea. Benji and I end up sitting on a bench at the front of the exhibit so Mia can take her time. Felix and Lake are looking at an abstract painting. 

Benji puts his arm around my shoulder when we sit down and I instinctively stiffen. He starts to pull back, but I grab his hand. There aren’t a ton of people in the exhibit, so I really shouldn’t feel this self-conscious. I shouldn’t, but I do. “No,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“If you’re not comfortable,” he starts.

“It’s not that,” I assure him. “I’m just still getting used to this.” I feel a nervous chill run down my back a few times when someone I don’t know clearly sees us, but no one says anything and eventually, I start to relax. 

I’m starting to get hungry by the time Mia finds us. “Where are Felix and Lake?” Mia asks.

As if on cue, Felix and Lake run over to us. I don’t know what they just did, but Felix is breathing hard as if he ran a marathon and they’re both blushing. Felix is also doing the thing he does when he’s trying too hard to be normal.

We walk around Midtown trying to figure out where we want to eat. Benji and I are holding hands, and I’m doing my very best not to let him see how self-conscious that makes me. We pass a restaurant with rainbow everything - rainbow painted stairs, rainbow flags in the windows, pride flags hanging outside. Felix is the one that spots it, and I get nervous that that’s where we’ll end up. To my surprise, Benji’s the one that vetoes it.

We end up choosing a diner because we figure it will have something for everyone. I tug on Benji’s hand to keep him outside with me while Mia, Lake, and Felix go inside. “I’m surprised that you said no,” I say quietly.

He shrugs. “I figure, if you’re willing to get more comfortable with stuff like this for me…” he holds up our entwined hands. “I can give a little too. You’ve been so on board with everything; I sometimes forget that this is new for you. I had six months to get used to being out and gay before I met you, but I remember how scary it was when I was first out. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you to be too public before you’re ready.”

I squeeze his hand. “You’re literally the perfect person. You know that, right?”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Sure. Come on; let’s go eat.”

We walk into the diner and look around to find where everyone is sitting. We spot Mia looking uncomfortable in a booth by herself. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” I let Benji know. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

I never actually make it to the bathroom because in the little hallway outside of the bathroom, Lake and Felix are making out. And I mean making out. I should look away, but I’m so surprised to see it that I just kind of stare. I walk backwards until I nearly take out a waiter because I’m not paying attention. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t carrying anyone’s food, just a stack of menus that fall to the ground. I quickly help him pick up the menus while apologizing profusely. By the time I finish, Lake and Felix are gone.

I’m flustered as I make my way back to the table. Benji shoots me a curious look, and I mouth  _ later _ . I can’t make eye contact with Felix because I don’t know if he wants me to know; I don’t know if this is a secret. Is this something that just started or have they been secretly dating? I have so many questions, and I know I need to resign myself to the possibility that I will not get any answers. I only need to think about how Felix never pushed me to tell him about Benji when he suspected we’d started seeing each other, and I know that I have to let him tell me when he’s ready.

It’s easy enough to push it to the backburner once we’re eating because we all have something to distract us. After dinner, Lake puts her foot down about the Lyft XL, so we’re taking that instead of the bus. We walk around a little bit while we wait for it. Lake put Mia’s address in because she’s spending the night there. Felix ends up taking the bus back to his apartment while Benji and I walk. I fill him in on what I saw at the diner while we walk; he is not surprised in the slightest. 

Once we’re outside his house, I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He leans up just slightly and presses his lips to mine. What starts off slow and sweet quickly escalates. The street lamp closest to us flickers and then goes out, which means we’re almost entirely hidden in the darkness.

I involuntarily moan, and Benji pulls back.

“I think we need to talk soon,” Benji whispers. I know exactly what he’s talking about and if I’m being honest, the idea of sex with Benji is both terrifying and exciting. I’m surprised by how much I want more.

“Tomorrow, after work?” I suggest. “We can sit down and talk. Make sure we’re on the same page.” That doesn’t give me much time to figure out what page I’m on, but I feel like if we don’t talk about it sooner rather than later, I’m going to fall down the spiral of avoiding it simply because it’s easier not to talk about it.

“Do you want to spend the night tomorrow?”

I hesitate because I love spending the night with Benji. There’s something really amazing about waking up in his arms, even if I’m stiff from sleeping in a weird position every time. “Yeah, I’d like that, but…”

“But we’re talking about sex not having it tomorrow?” he guesses. “That’s not why I asked you to spend the night. And believe me, we will not sleep together when my parents are home. The basement does not have a lock and there is nothing in the world that would make that risk worth it.”

That actually makes me feel a lot better. “Okay.” I kiss him again. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

When I get home, my parents are sitting in the same place they were before. “Mijo, come sit down,” my mom calls.

I nervously walk over to them and sit down across from them. It kind of makes me feel like I’m on trial, and I don’t know why. “What’s up?” I ask.

“Your father and I have been talking a lot over the last few days,” my mom starts. “We don’t like this.” I feel my heart drop. “You have to understand that this isn’t what we want for you. We want you to meet the girl of your dreams, get married, and have our grandchildren one day. We want… wanted that for you.”

“This is hard for us, and we know it’s been hard for you. We haven’t been the parents you need us to be, the parents any of you need us to be.” He motions behind me and I turn to see Pilar. I don’t know how long she’s been standing there, but she comes over and takes a seat next to me. “We’re really going to try for you.”

“We love you, both of you. I’m sorry we can’t give you more than that.”

I don’t realize I’ve started to cry until a single teardrop falls on the table in front of me. I hastily rub under my eyes. “What does that mean? That you’re going to try?”

“It means that we’re going to try to get used to this part of you,” my dad answers.

“We have some ground rules,” my mom tacks on. “We don’t want him here while we’re home. We need some time before we’re ready for that. When we saw him today… it was like watching you throw your future away.”

I look at her surprised. “You want us to sneak around?”

“Not exactly. We just don’t need to see it,” my mom says. “If you’re doing something with that boy…”

“Benji,” I interrupt.

“Yeah,” my mom agrees. “We don’t need to know about it.”

Pilar is looking between us shocked. This is very different from the open door policy and constant monitoring she got with Eric. “Really? He gets privacy?”

I don’t think Pilar realizes that I would much rather have our mom or dad constantly checking in on me and Benji rather than have my privacy because they don’t want to acknowledge my boyfriend. Though, I guess I’m lucky that they’re trying. It’s more than I thought I would get from them. 

That’s not what comes out though. “So I have to hide my boyfriend and you get to pretend we’re not together. I don’t see how that’s going to help you ‘get used’ to this.” I sound incredibly bitter, and I’m surprised when my parents don’t react defensively.

“We’re not going to put up a fight about you seeing him. Isn’t that enough?” my dad asks.

No, it’s not. But for them I can see how it feels like a huge sacrifice; the problem is it also feels like I’m sacrificing parts of myself because of their sacrifice. “I’m spending tomorrow night at Benji’s,” I say as I stand up. “So I won’t be home after work, and I don’t know if I’ll be home on Sunday. Maybe I’ll stay with Benji. Maybe I’ll stay with him tonight as well. That way you don’t have to worry about seeing anything you don’t want to, and I’ll be around someone that doesn’t pick and choose the parts of me they like.”

“You don’t have to avoid this apartment,” my mom tells me.

“Really?” I seethe. “Because it seems like I’m only welcome here as long as you can’t see that I’m gay. You make this a really shitty place to come home to with all of your fighting, but this is too much for me. I’m not going to pretend to be someone else just because it bothers you. That’s on you, not me.” I close my eyes for a quick second. “It’s not enough to say you’re going to try. You need to do better. Both of you. Because you’re right; we all deserve better.”

I retreat to my bedroom and let out a shuttery breath. I’m actually shaking right now. My hands don’t stop shaking as I unlock my phone and call Benji.

He answers halfway through the first ring. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi.” My voice sounds as shaky as I feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, instantly on guard.

“Nothing. I just talked to my parents, and I really needed to talk to you.” I’m already calming down. 

“What happened?” He doesn’t interrupt me while I fill him in on the conversation I had with my parents. “Victor, I’m so proud of you!”

“Proud?” I ask skeptically. “I completely overreacted.”

“You refused to settle. There’s a difference,” Benji argues. “You are welcome to spend the night here, you know.”

I snort. “Yeah, right. I only said that because they made me mad.”

“Maybe, but the offer is still open. I have this big comfy bed in my basement.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That should go over well with your parents,” I say sarcastically.

“They won’t mind,” Benji assures me.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. As long as I’m not drinking, they don’t really care what I do,” he explains. His voice gets low, the way it always does when he talks about anything related to his DUI.

“If you’re absolutely sure,” I say slowly. I don’t know if it’s too much too soon. I mean, we’ve only been together four weeks, but I really like spending time with him. It’s borderline obsessive, but isn’t it supposed to be? This is the first time I’ve ever been in love. It’s kind of like being at the very top of a rollercoaster. That split second when you’re balanced on top of the world, that nervous anticipation? I’m living in that moment and part of me hopes I always will be living in this moment because there’s nothing like this feeling. This feeling of being in love and getting to know Benji. It hits me hard and fast. I really love him.

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’ll come over.”

“Text me when you’re close.”

I hastily pack up my school bag and enough clothes for the weekend. I grab my walkie. “Felix, come in.”

It takes him so long to answer that I start to think he’s not home. Just when I’m about to leave, a staticky voice comes through the walkie. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m spending the weekend at Benji’s,” I tell him. “Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Ooh,” he says. “Is love in the air? Is this the big weekend?”

“What?” I ask.

“Are you gonna dance the midnight macarena?”

“What?” I repeat. I swear, sometimes it’s like Felix has his own language.

“Dude, come on? Are you getting lucky this weekend?”

I feel my face getting warm because while I’m not planning on sleeping with Benji this weekend, I’m also not planning on having this conversation with Felix. “Uh…”

I hear Felix laugh through the walkie. “You know, I’ve read that gay sex is-”

“Okay.” I cut him off because a) I don’t need to hear anything about sex from him, and b) wait… he’s read about gay sex? “You’ve read about gay sex?” I ask. “Why?”

“I just figured if you wanted to talk about it, you could,” he explains. I stare at my walkie talkie, not sure if I should be flattered or mortified. I’m silent so long, he asks, “are you still there?”

“Um… No. Yeah. I think so,” I answer. I don’t really know what his question was because I don’t think I have the mental capacity to process the bizarre turn this conversation took. 

“Have fun. Be safe. I’d offer you my condom, but I very recently learned that apparently we’re not actually supposed to carry them in our wallets. Hey, did you know that? It’s wild.”

It takes so much self-control not to ask if he learned that from Lake. Instead of asking him, I point out, “I think everyone knows that. My sex ed class at Graham focused on abstinence, and I was still taught that.”

“Huh,” Felix says like he was just given life-changing information. “Uh, before you leave, could you meet me out front? I need to tell you something.”

It’s about Lake. Apparently, it kind of started with the tres leches cake on my birthday, but the first time they hooked up was tonight at that art exhibit. Felix seems really happy, and he’s been waiting for this moment since he “was in diapers” (his words) and apparently it surpasses his “wildest fanfiction dreams” (also his words).

As if he’s psychic, within minutes of Felix going inside, Benji calls me. He can’t keep the humor out of his voice as he asks me if I got lost.

I’m outside of Benji’s house fifteen minutes later. I’m surprised when he’s outside as well. “Hey,” he calls. He stands up. He’s in pajama pants and a tank top.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask.

“I wanted to wait out here for you.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. I can’t explain it, but something about him waiting for me here makes me feel warm.

“Thanks.”

I kiss him quickly before we go inside. “Are you in the mood for ice cream?” he asks. “My parents bought some when they went grocery shopping tonight.”

“Sure,” I agree. I drop my bags off in his basement and meet him in the kitchen. When he suggested ice cream, I was expecting two bowls and a few scoops of ice cream. What I walk into is a full blown sundae bar. 

He looks at me sheepishly. “Did I ever mention we’re a big ice cream family?”

“Wait, so you just always have this stuff in here?” I ask. How have I missed that?

He nods. “I intentionally didn’t open our ice cream cabinet.” I stare at him. An ice cream cabinet? Does he mean like a full cabinet for ice cream supplies? He opens the two small cabinets over his freezer. He’s not exaggerating. There are enough sprinkles to rival a grocery store, three different kinds of ice cream cones, and so many bottles and jars of toppings. 

He grabs two bowls and passes me one. On the inside of the bowl, there’s a picture of a scoop of green ice cream wearing sunglasses in a waffle cone, and there’s a little speech bubble that says ‘We’re mint to be’. I bite my lip to hide my laugh. “Mint to be?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “These were my parents wedding favors, believe it or not. Their first date was to get ice cream when they were in college so it was incorporated into their theme when they got married.” He shrugs. “This whole ice cream obsession, it’s really my parents. I don’t eat ice cream all that often, but… I don’t know.”

He shifts on his feet. “Were you embarrassed to tell me this?”

He shrugs. “I mean, it’s kind of weird, right?”

“I think it’s sweet. Pun intended.” I scoop some vanilla ice cream into a bowl. “What else have you been keeping from me?”

We end up sitting on his couch and swapping stories. He rests his head on my shoulder and something clicks that this is my moment.

I’d been picturing an intentional moment, likely after a planned date but that seems so forced when I think about it now. Here, while we’re both sitting on his couch with our ice cream in our ice cream pun bowls and talking about our quirky families, it seems like the perfect time… it feels like it’s ‘mint to be’. I put my bowl on the coffee table and shift slightly so I’m facing him. “Hey, I love you.”

Benji’s reaction takes less than a second, almost like he’s just been waiting for me to be able to say it back. “I love you too.”

As we kiss, I realize that I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to sleep with him or when my parents will actually accept me for who I am; I don’t know if his dad will ever like me or what kind of hate we might get for our relationship; I don’t know what things we’ll learn about each other or how those things will change us.

There are so many things I don’t know, but they are overshadowed by the one thing I am utterly certain about. At this moment, I am so consumed with love for him, and instead of making me feel weak, it makes me feel like, together, we are strong enough to take on anything that comes our way.


End file.
